JUDAIC LOGIC

A FORMAL ANALYSIS OF
BIBLICAL, TALMUDIC AND RABBINIC
LOGIC

Avi Sion, Ph. D.

 AVI SION, 1995.

PROTECTED BY INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT CONVENTIONS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY MANNER WHATSOEVER,
OR STORED IN A RETRIEVAL SYSTEM OR TRANSMITTED,
WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR-PUBLISHER,
EXCEPT IN CASE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.

First published 1995, by Avi Sion in Geneva, Switzerland.

Also published 1997, by Editions Slatkine, Geneva, Switzerland.
Reprint, 2008-9.

Library Cataloguing Information:

Sion, Avi.
Judaic Logic: A Formal Analysis of Biblical, Talmudic and Rabbinic Logic.
No Index. No Bibliography.

ISBN 978-2-9700091-1-5


mes deux surs et leurs familles.

He who wishes to attain to human perfection,

must therefore first study Logic...
My son, so long as you are engaged in studying... Logic,
you belong to those who go around the palace in search of the gates.
(Moses Maimonides: Guide for the Perplexed.)

I read Judaic Logic with great interest.

It is a very important book, which has its place in every Jewish library.
(Prof. Ely Merzbach, Bar Ilan University, editor of Higayon.)

A hardback edition of this book can be ordered from:

Editions Slatkine
5, rue des Chaudronniers
P.O.B. 765,
1211 Geneva 3, Switzerland.
Phone: +41 22 776 2551
Fax: +41 22 776 3527
E-mail: slatkine@slatkine.ch
Internet site: http://www.slatkine.ch

ABSTRACT.
Judaic logic: A Formal Analysis of Biblical, Talmudic and Rabbinic Logic is an
original inquiry into the forms of thought determining Jewish law and belief, from the impartial
perspective of a logician1.
Judaic Logic attempts to honestly estimate the extent to which the logic employed
within Judaism fits into the general norms, and whether it has any contributions to make
to them. The author ranges far and wide in Jewish lore, finding clear evidence of both
inductive and deductive reasoning in the Torah and other books of the Bible, and analyzing the
methodology of the Talmud and other Rabbinic literature by means of formal tools which
make possible its objective evaluation with reference to scientific logic. The result is a highly
innovative work - incisive and open, free of clichs or manipulation.
Judaic Logic succeeds in translating vague and confusing interpretative principles and
examples into formulas with the clarity and precision of Aristotelian syllogism. Among the
positive outcomes, for logic in general, are a thorough listing, analysis and validation of the
various forms of a-fortiori argument, as well as a clarification of dialectic logic. However, on
the negative side, this demystification of Talmudic/Rabbinic modes of thought (hermeneutic
and heuristic) reveals most of them to be, contrary to the boasts of orthodox commentators, far
from deductive and certain. They are often, legitimately enough, inductive. But they are also
often unnatural and arbitrary constructs, supported by unverifiable claims and fallacious
techniques.
Many other thought-processes, used but not noticed or discussed by the Rabbis,
are identified in this treatise, and subjected to logical review. Various more or less
explicit Rabbinic doctrines, which have logical significance, are also examined in it. In
particular, this work includes a formal study of the ethical logic (deontology) found in
Jewish law, to elicit both its universal aspects and its peculiarities.
With regard to Biblical studies, one notable finding is an explicit formulation
(which, however, the Rabbis failed to take note of and stress) of the principles of
adduction2 in the Torah, written long before the acknowledgement of these principles
in Western philosophy and their assimilation in a developed theory of knowledge.
Another surprise is that, in contrast to Midrashic claims, the Tanakh (Jewish Bible)
contains a lot more than ten instances of qal vachomer (a-fortiori) reasoning.
In sum, Judaic Logic elucidates and evaluates the epistemological assumptions which
have generated the Halakhah (Jewish religious jurisprudence) and allied doctrines. Traditional
justifications, or rationalizations, concerning Judaic law and belief, are carefully dissected and
weighed at the level of logical process and structure, without concern for content. This
foundational approach, devoid of any critical or supportive bias, clears the way for a timely
reassessment of orthodox Judaism (and incidentally, other religious systems, by means of
analogies or contrasts). Judaic Logic ought, therefore, to be read by all Halakhists, as well as
Bible and Talmud scholars and students; and also by everyone interested in the theory, practice
and history of logic.

Avi Sion is the author of Future Logic: Categorical and Conditional Deduction and
Induction of the Natural, Temporal, Extensional and Logical Modalities, which is a large-scale
study in generic formal logic and epistemology.
2
The testing, and confirmation or rejection, of hypotheses - i.e. of beliefs, and equally of the
reasons or explanations put forward in support of beliefs.

Contents
1. INTRODUCTION. .......................................................................................................... 5
1. The Development of Jewish Law. ............................................................................. 5
2. A Logic Primer. ......................................................................................................... 9
a. Some propositional forms and their interrelations. ............................................. 10
b. Inductive logic. .................................................................................................... 14
c. Deductive logic.................................................................................................... 16
2. ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH. ................................................................... 23
1. The Art of Knowing. ............................................................................................... 23
2. Adduction in Western Philosophy. .......................................................................... 25
3. Adducing Prophecies and Prophethood. ................................................................. 27
4. Logic and Mysticism. .............................................................................................. 31
3. THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC. ................................................... 36
1. The Valid Moods. .................................................................................................... 36
a. Subjectal moods. ................................................................................................. 37
b. Predicatal moods. ................................................................................................ 37
c. Antecedental moods. ........................................................................................... 39
d. Consequental moods............................................................................................ 39
2. Validation Procedures. ............................................................................................ 41
3. Additional Details.................................................................................................... 47
4. QAL VACHOMER. ........................................................................................................ 55
1. Background. ............................................................................................................ 55
2. Samples in the Torah. .............................................................................................. 58
3. The Dayo Principle. ................................................................................................. 64
4. Objections! .............................................................................................................. 66
5. Rabbinic Formulations. ........................................................................................... 70
5. REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI. ........................................................ 73
1. Problems Encountered. ............................................................................................ 73
2. The Solution Found. ................................................................................................ 74
3. The Data and their Analysis. ................................................................................... 76
4. Synthesis of Results................................................................................................. 80
5. Talmudic/Rabbinic A-Fortiori. ................................................................................ 82
6. THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI. ................................................... 85
1. Torah Books. ........................................................................................................... 85
2. Historical Books. ..................................................................................................... 87
3. Other Books. ............................................................................................................ 91
4. Rejects. .................................................................................................................... 96
7. WITHOUT PREJUDICE. ............................................................................................ 98
1. Taking a Dilemma by its Horns. ............................................................................. 98
a. For the religious................................................................................................... 99
b. For the secular. .................................................................................................. 100
2. About Revision. ..................................................................................................... 102
3. Changes in the Law. .............................................................................................. 107
8. INITIAL IMPRESSIONS. .......................................................................................... 109
1. Methods and Contents. .......................................................................................... 109
2. Davqa or Lav-davqa? .......................................................................................... 114

3. Kushya and Terutz. .............................................................................................. 119

4. Standards of Knowledge. ....................................................................................... 122
9. TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS. ................................................................................ 124
1. Hermeneutics. ........................................................................................................ 124
a. Inferences of information. ................................................................................. 127
b. Elucidation of terms........................................................................................... 128
c. Harmonization. .................................................................................................. 130
2. Heuristics. .............................................................................................................. 133
3. A Methodical Approach. ....................................................................................... 138
10. THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I). ................................................................................ 143
1. Exposition and Evaluation. .................................................................................... 143
2. Inference of Information. ....................................................................................... 145
3. Scope of Terms. ..................................................................................................... 155
11. THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)................................................................................ 160
4. Harmonization. ...................................................................................................... 160
12. THE SINAI CONNECTION. ................................................................................... 184
1. Verdict on Rabbinic Hermeneutics........................................................................ 184
2. Artificial Blocks to Natural Development of the Law. ......................................... 190
3. How Tradition Keeps Growing. ......................................................................... 198
13. ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH. ..................................................................... 202
1. Basic Properties. .................................................................................................... 202
2. Complementary Factors. ........................................................................................ 206
3. How to Count Mitzvot. .......................................................................................... 211
4. Commanded vs. Personal Morality. ...................................................................... 217
14. LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH. .................................................................... 221
1. On Natural Proofs of Religion. .............................................................................. 221
2. Theodicy and the Believers Wager. ..................................................................... 224
3. Faith and Justice. ................................................................................................... 227
4. Legislated Belief. ................................................................................................... 229
15. EPILOGUE. ............................................................................................................... 233
1. Motives of the Present Research. .......................................................................... 233
2. Conclusions of Our Study...................................................................................... 235
16. APPENDICES. ........................................................................................................... 247
1. Further Notes on A-Fortiori Argument. ................................................................ 247
2. Notions of Time. .................................................................................................... 250
3. Gematria. ............................................................................................................... 257
4. Three Texts Reviewed. .......................................................................................... 260
a. Feigenbaums Understanding the Talmud. ........................................................ 260
b. Rabinowichs Talmudic Terminology. .............................................................. 262
c. The Ramchals Ways of Reason. ....................................................................... 267
5. The Hebrew Language........................................................................................... 269
6. Further Notes on Harmonization Rules. ................................................................ 275
17. ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS ................................................................................ 280
1. Addenda to Judaic Logic ....................................................................................... 280
2. Diagrams for Judaic Logic .................................................................................... 291
REFERENCES .............................................................................................................. 302

Tables
Table 3.1
Table 5.1
Table 5.2
Table 5.3

Classification of A-Fortiori Arguments. ......................................................... 36

Proposed list of Biblical A-Fortiori. ................................................................ 77
Frequencies of A-Fortiori Operators. .............................................................. 78
A-Fortiori Arguments: By Whom, How Often, When. ................................... 79

Diagrams
1. Rule 1, on A fortiori argument
2. Rules 4-5, on Scope of terms
3. Rules 8-9-10, on Harmonization
4. Kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa
5. Rule 8a, Lelamed oto hadavar
6. Rule 8b, Lelamed hefekh hadavar
7. Rule 10, Shelo kheinyano
8. Rule 9, Shehu kheinyano
9. Rule 11, Lidon badavar hechadash
10. Rule 13, on Dialectic

291
292
293
293
296
296
297
299
299
301

INTRODUCTION

1. INTRODUCTION.

1.

The Development of Jewish Law.

Logic in Judaism is mainly used for the determination and application of Jewish
law, though also for the interpretation of the stories in holy texts. Before we begin our
reflections on Jewish logic, therefore, let us very briefly look into the development of
Jewish law. To begin with, we must of course consider how this development is perceived
and conceived within Judaism itself.
The founding document and proof-text of the Jewish faith and religion is, as is well
known, the Torah (translated as the Law, or Doctrine). This refers to the Five Books of
Moses or Pentateuch (Chumash, in Hebrew), which Jews3 believe was handed down by
God4 to the Jewish people, through Moses, at Mount Sinai5, some 3,300 years ago. The five
books are Bereshith (Genesis), Shemot (Exodus), Vayikra (Leviticus), Bemidbar
(Numbers), Devarim (Deuteronomy).
The Jewish Bible, or Tanakh, consists of this 5-volume Torah, together with the 8
other prophetic books (of which one includes twelve minor prophets) and 11 other holy
scriptures (counting the books of Ezra and Nehemiah as one), written under Divine
inspiration over the next 800 years or so, mostly in the land of Israel and in a few cases in
the first Babylonian exile. TaNaKh is an acronym, including the initials T of Torah, N of
Neviim (Prophets) and K of Ketuvim (Scriptures); the books of the Bible other than those
written by Moses are therefore simply known as the Nakh6. The latter play a relatively
secondary role in the development of Jewish law, being referred to occasionally to resolve
certain questions of detail7 or to provide illustrations.
The Talmud (which means, teaching) is an enormous compilation of legal
discussions between Rabbis, stretching over several centuries, starting about 2,100 years
ago (at least). It includes two main components: the Mishnah (meaning, learning by
repetition - pl. Mishnaiot), which was edited by R. Yehudah HaNassi in the 1st century CE,
followed by the Gemara (meaning, completion - pl. Gemarot), which was redacted by R.
Ashi in the 5th century. Actually, there are two Talmuds: the Bavli (or Babylonian), which
3

Or believing Jews, if you prefer; and many non-Jews, of course.

The names of our Divinity are commonly written incompletely, even in their non-Hebrew
forms, so as to avoid their destruction (which is prohibited on the basis of Deut. 12:4) should a copy
of the book be damaged. I am not sure that merely leaving out the vowel, as in G-d or the L-rd in
English, suffices, but it at least shows respect. However, as search strings in the Internet such
abbreviations cause confusion.
5
Apparently, not only at Mt. Sinai, but also earlier at Marah and later on the plains of Moab.
We shall just say 'Sinai', in the way of a collective term. See Lewittes, p. 38.
6
However, sometimes the word Torah is broadened to refer to the whole Tanakh; indeed,
sometimes it is used even more broadly to include all Jewish law.
7
The fact that some laws were Prophetic rather than Mosaic in origin is of course a problem,
in that Judaism is supposed to be essentially unchanged since Sinai. The Sages explained this by
claiming them oral traditions dating from Sinai, which were written down by the prophets, or else
forgotten and again revealed to the prophets. See Lewittes, pp. 32-33.
4

JUDAIC LOGIC

is the one we just mentioned, and the parallel Yerushalmi (or Jerusalem8), which was
closed in Israel some 130 years earlier, in the 4th century, and carries relatively less
authority.9
The Mishnah is divided into six so-called Sedarim (Orders - sing. Seder)10, to which there
corresponds sixty-three Gemara commentaries called Masekhtot (Tractates - sing. Masekhet),
found in one or both of the Talmuds. The names of the Orders and corresponding numbers of
Tractates are as follows: Zeraim (Seeds), 11; Moed (Appointed Time), 12; Nashim (Women), 7;
Nezikin (Damages), 10; Kodashim (Consecrated Objects), 11; Taharot (Purities), 12.

Jewish law, or the Halakhah (meaning, the Path, or the Way to go), as it stands
today, is (as we shall see) the outcome of a long historical process of debate and practice,
in which the above mentioned documents, mainly the Torah and the Talmud, have played
the leading roles. Jewish law, note, concerns not only interactions between individuals (be
they civil, commercial or criminal) and societal issues (communal or national structures
and processes), but also the personal behavior of individuals (privately or in relation to
God) and collective religious obligations (which may be carried out by selected
individuals, such as the priests or Levites).
Many people, not well-acquainted with normative Judaism11, believe that Jewish
law was derived purely and exclusively from the Torah (or, more broadly, perhaps, the
Tanakh). In this view, the Torah (or Tanakh) was the totality of Gods message to the
Jewish people in particular, and Humanity in general; so that only what was explicitly
written in it, or strictly deductively inferable from that, qualifies as Divine Will. However,
in fact, it would be technically impossible to derive in that way all of existing Jewish law
from the Torah (or Tanakh) alone; more data would be required - and more was actually
used....
Orthodox Jews believe that, at the same time as the Written Torah (Torah
Shebekhtav) was given, an Oral Torah (Torah Shebealpeh) was inaugurated, by Moses,
which served to clarify and amplify the written law, by consideration of more specific
cases. The existence already in Sinai of an unwritten component to the Law is suggested
within the written Torah itself (see, for instance, Exodus, ch. 18). The Tradition
(Hamasoret, in Hebrew) was, orthodox Jews believe, faithfully transmitted across the
centuries, through popular practice and verbal repetition, until it was largely committed to
writing in the Nakh, the Talmud and other Rabbinical texts. Existing Jewish law, then,
claims logical descent from, not only the Written Torah, but also the Oral Torah12.
8

Also known as the Palestinian Talmud. 'Palestine' refers to the land of Israel, which at the
time was under Roman occupation. Although Jews were then the large majority of the inhabitants,
the country was named after the Philistines, a non-Arab people who had by then disappeared.
9
Nowadays, most editions of the Talmud include a mass of later commentaries and
supercommentaries.
10
The expression haShas is an acronym for the 'shishah sedarim' (six orders), and thence a
name for the oral law.
11
I am not here alluding to the Zadokim (Sadducees), or Karaim (Karaites) or even to certain
like-minded modern Conservatives and Reformists, who more or less believed that Jewish Law
should have been derived exclusively from the Torah.
12
Oral transmission may be thought at first less reliable than the written word, but if one
thinks about it, there is no real reason to regard documents as any more reliable. Sooner or later,
an act of faith is necessary, that the document or the spoken report was indeed of Divine origin.
This is the faith of Judaism, as we have said, and we shall take it as our starting point. (Of course, it
is to some extent easier to date documents than oral traditions, and thus to some extent verify
claims concerning their authorship; but there are often difficulties and disagreements, which leave
us with doubts, anyway.)

INTRODUCTION

It should be noted that, although written laws would seem more reliable than oral
laws, nevertheless, some oral laws (for instance, the laws defining Sabbath observance) are
considered as equal in force to written laws. Such as-if written oral laws are called
deoraita, in distinction from oral laws which are regarded as based on Rabbinic authority,
called derabbanan. This distinction plays an important role in Halakhic decision-making,
in the event of doubts concerning the tenor of a law or the facts of a case13. A similar
distinction is made with reference to inferences from Scripture, those with mere Rabbinic
force being classed as asmakhta14.
What concerns us, in the present study, are the thought-processes which have been used to
construct the Halakhah. This issue has several levels. The simplest is an uncritical description of the
ways Jewish law is derived from the first principles claimed by Jewish tradition as having been
given in the Sinai Revelation, in writing or orally. At a more advanced stage, we will want to
determine to what extent these thought-processes, or methods of derivation, have been truly
logical. And ultimately, we will have to scrutinize more carefully the bases of the first principles
themselves - which implies an investigation of hidden or unexplicited thought-processes, which in
turn must be assessed from a purely logical point of view.

Let us now look more closely at the course of events, as taught within Judaism. The
Torah, written and oral, is supreme, not open to doubt or review. Some aspects of the oral
Torah make their appearance in the Nakh, if only incidentally within stories. Next in
importance comes the Mishnah, which is the condensed essence of Jewish oral tradition, as
it stood at a specific point in time. The Mishnah faithfully reports, not only legal positions
generally agreed on by the Rabbis of the time and earlier, but also where they disagree,
their points of controversy. The authority of the Rabbis stemmed from the Torah itself; for
instance, Deuteronomy 17:8-13 (emphasis added):
If there arise a matter too hard for thee in judgment (...); then shalt thou
arise and get thee up, unto the place which the Lord thy God shall choose (...),
unto the Levitical priests, and unto the judge that shall be in those days; and
thou shalt inquire; and they shall declare unto thee the sentence of judgment
(...); and thou shalt observe to do according to all that they shall teach thee.
The religious authorities were, first of all, the trustees of the oral transmission
(many of these people, in the long line since Moses, are identified by name15). And
secondly, it was foreseen that there would be gaps in knowledge, or changing
circumstances, which would require wise and considered judgment by competent and
recognized spiritual leaders16.
The decisions set down in the Mishnah, once it was closed, became binding for all
future generations, and thus acquired the status of first principles, like the Scriptures, not
13

See Lewittes, p. 91. But note well that it is the Rabbis themselves who tell us which oral
laws are deoraita and which are derabbanan; there is no way to independently audit their
pronouncements in this respect, since by definition they refer to oral and not to written laws.
14
See Lewittes pp. 33, 57. This presumably refers to non-deductive inferences, since purely
deductive inferences are logically bound to have Biblical force. But it does not follow that only
deductive inferences have been granted Biblical force.
15
See, for instance, the Pirkei Avot, ch. 1.
16
Philosophers will note that such innovation implies, to some extent, a delegation of creative
powers by God to the human authorities; for the power to make a legal ruling is nothing less than
the power to create an ethical fact which was previously non-existent.

JUDAIC LOGIC

open to challenge, and serving as top premises in the inference of further Halakhah.
Although the Mishnah provided more practical detail than the Torah, it was written very
telegraphically, and therefore could itself give rise to misunderstandings or disagreements.
Furthermore, historical events - namely, Roman wars and persecutions, which caused the
death of many major Rabbis of the time (known as Tanaim - sing. Tana) - created serious
gaps in the collective memory, as to the Halakhah concerning many issues; and a fear that
the still-oral portions of the tradition might be lost.
Such considerations motivated the next generations of Rabbis (known as Amoraim
- sing. Amora), some still in Palestine, but many in Babylonian exile - to compare notes
and memories, and debate outstanding issues, and report their collective findings and
decisions in writing, in what became known as the Gemara. This was based, then, on an
interplay of Torah and Mishnah - as well as, to some extent, on the living memories of
eyewitnesses and the unwritten pronouncements of earlier teachers remembered by their
later disciples, known as the Tosefta (additional material) and Baraitot (sing. Baraita material left out of the Mishnah). The latter included lists of hermeneutic principles. Using
these three sources, the Rabbis developed the Gemara.
Again, the clear decisions in the Gemara, once made, became binding on all future
generations. They in turn became unassailable first principles in the system of inference of
Jewish law. The reason for this privilege of earlier authorities is that they were closer to the
source (the Revelation at Sinai), in touch with a relatively unbroken chain of tradition,
compared to succeeding Rabbis. The latter were still left with work to do, however; some
questions had been left unanswered, some answers were open to conflicting interpretations,
and also new situations arose which required Halakhic decision.
Thus it is that the law developed, layer upon layer; there were the Savoraim (6th7th centuries CE), the Gaonim (to the mid-11th century), the Rishonim (to the mid-15th
century), the Acharonim (since the mid-15th century). Each eras Rabbis basing
themselves on the decisions and suggestions of their predecessors, as deductively as they
could, refined and developed the Halakhah. And almost always, the work of previous
authorities acquired the status of well-nigh incontrovertible major premises for those that
came after them. The latter could only comment or codify, or at best fill in gaps left by the
former.
However, it should be noted parenthetically that when we today encounter an
apparent contradiction between an earlier authority and a later one, we as a rule take the
more recent as the more authoritative. It is taken for granted that the latter made his ruling
with full awareness of the formers positions. Thus, while in principle the earlier
personality has more prestige, in practice the later personality once established as an
authority is more to be relied on. The status of authority is not of course acquired
arbitrarily, but is a function of proven scholarship.
There have been attempts by some Jewish thinkers, at various times, to challenge many of
the principles presented above, and try to liberalize the law. Especially of interest to us are the
efforts made in this respect over the past couple of centuries, under the influence no doubt of the
surrounding European culture of Enlightenment. The authors were generally free-thinking laymen,
and there is no denying that most of them eventually gave up many religious observances, if they
did not end up totally indifferent to religion. Such philosophers of religion were behind nonOrthodox Jewish movements, including Conservative Judaism, Reform Judaism, and the nonreligious Haskalah.17

17

Some of those who ventured to look at Judaism critically ended up converting to other
religions.

INTRODUCTION

Usually beginning with a critical review of traditional claims, pointing out logical
weaknesses or factual inaccuracies or uncertainties, such attempts would often include proposals
for legal change, generally with a view to making life easier for Jews, allowing them to adapt more
readily to the modern world. However, the authors were in all evidence rather frequently
unacquainted with the traditional answers to their questions; furthermore, even when their critique
might be convincing, they often allowed themselves to draw conclusions more radical than their
premises made possible.
To give an example18: one might argue that even acknowledging that Biblical passages like
the one cited above (Deut. 17:8-13) effectively grant legislative power to the Tanaim, Amoraim,
and subsequent Rabbis, it is not manifestly evident why such past judgments should be
irreversible. All one might affirm, logically, is that so long as the judges in each generation,
appointed by those in the previous generation, continue to confirm these judgments, they hold;
otherwise, they would cease to be binding. Claims that the Talmudic generations were necessarily
wiser, because closer in time to the Sinai revelation, are rather circular arguments, based on a
prejudicially positive evaluation, rather than on a logical connection; one could equally well claim
(even if just as prejudicially) that most of these people were rather ignorant and superstitious by
modern standards.
However, it must be noted that such objections do not really make possible a breach in the
continuity of Rabbinical authority as such. Even if changes in the law, through reassessments of
the logic or consideration of new data or new conditions, were in principle permissible, they would
have to come specifically from within the line of succession of Jewish authority, to be in fact
permissible. Anything else would effectively be an illicit attempt to takeover an institution, a
misappropriation of the name Judaism by a new religion. There is no license to invent (as
happened historically) a new line of spiritual guides called Rabbis, not linked by education and
appointment to the original line, and unable to claim direct descent from Moses. So long as the
legitimate authorities consensually reaffirm the same judgments, they would seem to remain
binding.

2.

A Logic Primer.

The reader of the present volume does not need to have previously studied logic in
depth to be able to follow the discussion fully, but will still need to grasp certain concepts
and terminologies. We will try to fulfill this specific task here, while reminding the reader
that the subject is much, much wider than that.
Broadly speaking, we refer to any thought process which tends to convince people
as logical. If such process continues to be convincing under perspicacious scrutiny, it is
regarded as good logic; otherwise, as bad. More specifically, we consider only good logic
as at all logic; bad logic is then simply illogical. The loose definition of logic allows us to
speak of stupid forms of thought as logics (e.g. racist logic), debasing the term; the
stricter definition is more demanding.19
Logic, properly speaking, is both an art and a science. As an art, its purpose is the
acquisition of knowledge; as a science, it is the validation of knowledge. Many people are
quite strong in the art of logic, without being at all acquainted with the science of logic.
18

The illustration here given is rough, and should not be taken as a thorough analysis of the
issues touched upon, pro or con.
19
We may also speak of 'a logic' in a non-pejorative way, when referring to intelligent forms
of thought which are found especially in certain areas of knowledge or scientific fields; e.g. logistics
is the logic of willed deployment of (material or mental) objects in space and time, mathematics is
the logic of numbers and spatio-temporal relations. Similarly, historians of logic may objectively
refer to the logic of (used by or known to) different geographical or cultural groups or periods of
history. All specific logics, good or bad, may be subjected to objective study, of course.

10

JUDAIC LOGIC

Some people are rather weak in practice, though well-informed theoretically. In any case,
study of the subject is bound to improve ones skills.
Logic is traditionally divided into two - induction and deduction. Induction is
taken to refer to inference from particular data to general principles (often through the
medium of prior generalities); whereas deduction is taken to refer to inference from
general principles to special applications (or to other generalities). The processes from the
particular to general and from the general to the particular are rarely if ever purely one
way or the other. Knowledge does not grow linearly, up from raw data, down from
generalities, but in a complex interplay of the two; the result at any given time being a
thick web of mutual dependencies between the various items of ones knowledge.
Logic theory has succeeded in capturing and expressing in formal terms many of
the specific logical processes we use in practice. Once properly validated, these processes,
whether inductive or deductive in description, become formally certain. But it must always
be kept in mind that, however impeccably these formalities have been adhered to - the
result obtained is only as reliable as the data on which it is ultimately based. In a sense,
the role of logic is to ponder information and assign it some probability rating between
zero and one hundred.
Advanced logic theory has shown that what ultimately distinguishes induction from
deduction is simply the number of alternative results offered as possible by given information: if
there is a choice, the result is inductive; if there is no choice, the result is deductive. Deductive
logic may seem to give more certain results, but only because it conceals its assumptions more; in
truth, it is merely passing on probability, its outputs being no more probable than the least probable
of its inputs. When inductive logic suggests some idea as the most likely to be true, compared to
any other idea, it is not really leaving us with much choice; it is telling us that in the present
context of knowledge, we decisively have to follow its suggestion. These are the reasons why the
word proof is often ambiguous; do we mean deductive proof or inductive proof, and does it
matter which we mean?

a.

Some propositional forms and their interrelations.

The first task of logicians is to observe actual thought and speech, and take note of
recurring linguistic formulas. At first, the variety may seem bewildering; but, starting with
the most common and simple items, and gradually considering more detailed issues and
more complex cases, Logic has grown and matured. A great breakthrough, which we owe
to Aristotle (4th century BCE, Greece), was the discovery of an ingenious artifice, which
clarified all subsequent discussion. In everyday discourse, we make statements with
specific contents, like swans are white; Aristotle developed logical science by focusing
on forms, substituting variables like X and Y for specific values like swans and
white. Such a formal approach signifies that certain aspects of reasoning can be justified
without reference to content; they are abstract truths for all propositions of a certain kind.
We shall here first consider some of the simplest of the forms called categorical
propositions. (It is worth memorizing the symbols, traditionally used since the Middle
Ages to abbreviate theoretical discussions. A and I come from the word affirmo; E and O,
from nego - these are Latin words, whose meanings are obvious. Note that IO refers to the
sum of I and O.)

INTRODUCTION

A:
I:

11

All X are Y.
E:
No X is Y.
Some X are Y.
O:
Some X are not Y.
IO:
Some X are Y and Some X are not Y.

X and Y (or any specific equivalents) are referred to as the terms, the former
being called the subject and the latter the predicate. The relational expressions is (are)
and is (are) not are known as copulae, the former having positive polarity and the latter
negative (note that the not is used here to negate the is, even though placed after it).
Expressions like all, some are called quantifiers: they serve to tell us the extension
(i.e. the number or proportion) of the subject which the predication (i.e. copula and
predicate) refers to. So much for the various features of individual propositions.
A and E are characterized as general (or universal) propositions, because they each
concern the whole of the subject, each and every instance of it which ever has appeared or
may ever appear. A may also be expressed in the form Every X is Y. It should be clear
that No X is Y means Every X is-not Y, the only difference between A and E being
the polarity of their copulae. I and O are called particular propositions; they each concern
at least part of the subject, and again differ only in their polarity; note well that such
propositions are ambiguous with regard to just how much of the subject they address.
Often, in practice, we fail to explicitly specify the quantity involved, taking for granted that
it is well understood (as in swans are white); in case of doubt, such a statement may be
dealt with as, minimally, a particular.
IO represents the conjunction of I and O, and may be classed as (extensionally)
contingent. Though here presented as a compound, IO is also a proposition in its own
right; it could equally be expressed in exclusive form, as Only some X are Y or Only
some X are not Y (different emphasis, same logical significance). What distinguishes IO
from its elements I and O, is that it is more definite about quantity than they are. It follows
from the various definitions, and it is important to note, that I can be interpreted to mean
either A or IO (that is, either All X are Y or Only some X are Y), and likewise O can
be read as either E or IO (that is, either No X is Y or Only some X are not Y).
The foregoing definitions and correlations, together with certain self-evident
principles, enable us to infer the following oppositions, as they are called. (Note that the
expression opposition, in the specialized sense used in logic, does not necessarily signify
conflict, but is intended in the sense of face-off.)
* A implies I; that is, the first cannot be true without the second being also true.
Remember that all is one of the possible outcomes of at least some, and therefore
conceptually presupposes it. Logic demands that we acknowledge the meaning and
implications of what we say20 (this principle is known as the Law of Identity). Likewise,
E implies O; and of course both I and O are implicit in IO. But note that these relations are
not reversed: I does not imply A, nor IO; O does not imply E, nor IO.
* A and O are contradictory; that is, they cannot be both true and they cannot be
both false, one must be true and the other false. The general statement All X are Y tells
us that every single X is Y, and is therefore incompatible with any claim that Some X are
not Y which would mean that one or more X is not Y; for we must admit that nothing can
at once and in the same respect both have and not-have a given characteristic (this
principle is known as the Law of Non-contradiction). Also, since there is no alternative
20

And indeed, 'call a spade a spade'.

12

JUDAIC LOGIC

to either being or not-being (this principle is known as the Law of the Excluded
Middle21), we are forced to assert one or the other of our two sentences in any given case.
Similarly, E and I are contradictory.
* A, E and IO are all contrary to each other, mutually exclusive; that is, only one of
them may be true, and the other two must then be false. Furthermore, they are taken
together exhaustive; that is, one of them must be true, since there are no available forms
besides them. It follows that the contradictory of the conjunction of I and O is simply a
disjunctive statement of the form either A or E; for IO signifies a denial of all
universality, whether that of A or that of E.
Lastly, what is the relation between I and O as such? They are obviously
compatible, since they combine together within IO; that is, they may both be true at once.
But they cannot both be false at once, for then their contradictories A and E would both be
true, which is impossible. Their special opposition is therefore given a distinct name; they
are said to be subcontrary. Note that the concept of subcontrariety applies to a pair of
propositions, while the larger concept of exhaustiveness (above defined) applies to any
number of propositions.
These concepts of opposition are applicable to other forms, besides those above, note. Also,
there are other, related such concepts worth mentioning. Two propositions are mutual implicants, if
the truth of either implies the truth of the other and the falsehood of either implies the falsehood of
the other. If, however, the implication is only one-way, they are said to be subalternatives, and the
one which implies but is not implied is called the subalternant, while the one which is implied but
does not imply is called the subaltern. Two forms are said to be incompatible, if they are contrary
or contradictory; in all other cases, they are said to be compatible. The latter class includes forms
which are unconnected, or neutrally related, meaning that they are related neither by mutual
implication or subalternation, nor by contrariety or contradiction, nor by subcontrariety.
It should be noted, too, that the same concepts of opposition can be applied to terms, as
well as to propositions. Two terms, say X and Y, are mutual implicants, if all X are Y and all Y are
X (in such case, X and Y are equivalent classes or coextensive). X subalternates Y, if all X are Y but
not all Y are Y, in which case, Y is called a genus or overclass of X, and X is called a species or
subclass of Y; mutatis mutandis for the reverse case, of X subalternated by Y22. X and Y are
contradictory, if no X is Y, and no nonX is nonY. They are contrary, if no X is Y, but some nonX
are nonY. They are subcontrary, if some X are Y, though no nonX is nonY. And, finally, they are
unconnected, if all the categorical propositions relating them or their negations are contingent (note,
however, that they may still have conditional connections in such case).

There are of course many other forms, besides those listed above. Propositions may
also be singular (these involve an indicated instance of the subject This X or a proper
name; symbols R and G are used for the positive and negative variants, respectively). All
propositions other than singular are called plural; this class includes not only A, E, I, O,
but also majoritive or minoritive forms (those are introduced by the quantifiers most and
few, respectively) and with indeed any number or proportion we please (lots of, a
21

The three laws: Identity, Non-contradiction, and Exclusion of a Middle, are known as the
Laws of Thought. They were first formulated by Aristotle, who identified them as the foundations of
all logic.
22
Note well here that the subclass implies the overclass, and not vice-versa; so that the
subclass is the subalternant and the overclass is the subaltern. The concept of subalternation is not
to be confused, as is easily done, with the concept of subordination. While the species implies the
genus (because whatever falls under the species is subsumed under the genus), the genus is said
to include the species (because species is narrower than genus). To indicate the inferiority, in the
latter sense, of the species to the genus, one may say that it is subordinate. Thus, to repeat, a
subclass is not subaltern to an overclass, but subordinate to it.

INTRODUCTION

13

few, 17, two thirds of, etc.)23. Propositions may involve relations other than the
copula is or its negation - for instances, becomes or is-greater-than. Also,
propositions are not all categorical in form, as above, but may be more complex constructs,
such as the forms of conditioning. As well, all propositions are implicitly or explicitly
qualified by modality.
By modality is meant the attributes of relations we signify by using words like:
necessarily, possibly, actually, actually-not, possibly-not, impossibly. These categories of
modality, as they are called, are collectively of many types (or modes); and ordinary language
reflects this variety in meaning somewhat. They may have a logical sense (referring to the various
contexts of our knowledge), a natural sense (referring to causal relations within/among things
themselves), a temporal sense (referring to the times of the existence of a thing), an extensional
sense (referring to the cases of classes of things), or even an ethical sense (referring to the
available standards of value).
Thus, for instances, the logically necessary is what is true in all knowledge contexts, and
the logically possible (or conceivable) is something true in some knowledge contexts; in contrast,
the naturally necessary is what occurs in all circumstances, and the naturally possible (or potential)
is something occurring in some circumstances; and so forth. Modal considerations inevitably
emerge in all human knowledge, as expressions of its limitations (logical mode), and in the
external world itself, as expressions of its diversity (extensional mode) and change (natural and
temporal modes). The study of modality is a vast and fundamental domain, which has important
repercussions in every issue of concern to logic and epistemology.
Note that though all propositions have underlying modal attributes, these modalities are not
always explicitly stated, nor are they automatically known. The wording is in practice pretty mixed
up, but to develop the theory of modality, some expressions may be reserved for one or the other
mode - e.g.: must, can, cannot, for natural relations; always, sometimes, never, for temporals; all,
some, none, for extensionals; should, may, mustnt, for ethicals.

The building block of conditional propositions is the relation of conjunction

(signaled by use of the word and) and its negation; from the latter we derive the various
types of implication (usually signaled by if-then-) and disjunction (signaled by the
relation -or-), and their respective negations. The formal study of this field is reported to
date from at least the 3rd century BCE in ancient Greece (notably, with Philo the
Megarian). We cannot here cover this wide field; only a few remarks concerning it will be
made.
With regard to the relation of implication. The expression P implies Q, where P
and Q refer to any two propositions, signifies that P and not-Q cannot be true both
together (in the same body of knowledge, or with reference to the same instances of some
concept, or in the same natural circumstances or times). This means that P is incompatible
with the negation of Q; and it can be stated in the hypothetical form if P is true, then Q is
true, or more briefly as if P, then Q. Here, P and Q are called theses, P being the
antecedent and Q being the consequent.
The contradictory of such a proposition has the form P does not imply Q or if P,
not-then Q, which is defined by the statement that P and not-Q can be true both
together, i.e. they are compatible. Note that both these propositions can be freely
23

It should be clear that plural propositions are here understood as statistical summaries of
independent singular propositions. That is, "All/Some S are/aren't P" is equivalent to "This S is/isn't
P" and "That S is/isn't P" and..., etc. (which, however, need not all be true at once). Such
quantifiers are characterized as dispensive (or distributive), and are distinguished from collective
reference (e.g. "All S, taken together, are P") and collectional reference (e.g. "All S, separately but
simultaneously, are P").

14

JUDAIC LOGIC

contraposed; that is, if P, then Q implies if not-Q, then not-P, and likewise if P, notthen Q implies if not-Q, not-then not-P; this is easy to prove, merely by comparing the
definitions of the original propositions and their contraposites (which state the
incompatibility or compatibility, respectively, of not-Q and not-not-P).
With regard to disjunctive propositions, they have the form P or Q or R or..., in
which P, Q, R, etc. are two or more alternatives (or disjuncts). Considering the simplest
case, with two theses; we should note the distinction between inclusive disjunction (P
and/or Q, equivalent to if not-P, then Q) and exclusive disjunction (P or else Q,
equivalent to if P, then not-Q). In the former case, the two theses cannot be both false,
but may eventually be both true; in the latter case, they cannot be both true, but may
eventually be both false; if the disjunction is both inclusive and exclusive, the theses are in
contradiction (and we tend to use the form either P or Q). Generally speaking,
disjunctions can be defined precisely by stating explicitly how many of the available
alternatives may or must be true and how many of them may or must be false.
The study of propositional forms is merely a preparatory to the study of the logical
processes involving them, which we shall now consider.
All such processes, taken together, are widely referred to as the scientific method, but the
word science in this expression must of course be understood as referring to knowledge as
distinct from pseudo-knowledge or ignorance; and not to any professional body with privileged
claims to truth. It should be clear that all inductive and deductive processes are commonly used
by everyone, not just people involved in scientific enterprises. The scientist is, if at all
distinguishable from others, distinguishable by his attitudes, as someone who (ideally) makes just
a little more effort to be careful with his methodology - to be open-minded and objective, clear
and precise in language, and strict and perceptive in logic.

b.

Inductive logic24.

How do propositions, such as those described above, come to be known? This is the
question inductive logic tries to answer. The way we commonly acquire knowledge of
nature, as ordinary individuals or as scientists, is by a gradual progression, involving both
experience or perception, whether of external phenomena (through the sense organs
somehow) or of mental phenomena (with what we often call the minds eye, whatever
that is), and reason or conceptual insight (which determines our evaluation and ordering
of experience).
At the simplest level, we observe phenomena, and take note, say, that: there are
Xs which are Y (which means, some X are Y = I), leaving open at first the issue of
whether these X are representative of all X (so that A is true), or just special cases (so that
IO is true). The particular form I is needed by us as a temporary station, to allow us to
express where we stand empirically thus far, without having to be more definite than we
can truthfully be, without being forced to rush to judgment.
If after thorough examination of the phenomena at hand, a continued scanning of
our environment or the performance of appropriate experiments, we do not find Xs which
are not Y, we take a leap and presume that all X are Y (A). This is a generalization, an
inductive act which upgrades an indefinite particular I to a universal of the same polarity
A, until if ever evidence is found to the contrary. The justification of such a leap is that A
24

Inductive logic is also (though rarely) known as epagogic; in which case the term 'logic' is
limited (as is often the case in common discourse) to deductive logic.

INTRODUCTION

15

is more uniform with I than O, and therefore involves less assumption: given I, a move to
A requires no change of polarity, unlike a move to O, whereas with regard to quantity, the
degree of assumption is the same either way.
If, however, we do find Xs which are not Y (i.e. that some X are not Y = O),
we simply conclude with a definite contingent IO. If the discovery of O preceded any
assumption of A, so well and good, the induction of IO proceeded in an orderly fashion. If
on the other hand, we had assumed A, and then discover O, an inconsistency has
effectively occurred in our belief system, and we are forced to reverse a previously adopted
position and effect a particularization of A back to I, to inductively conclude IO.
Needless to say - and we need not keep pointing out such parallels between positive and
negative polarities - the sequence of such harmonization might equally have been O
followed by E, and then I followed by IO.
Note that the particulars involved, I or O, may be arrived at directly, by
observation, as suggested above, or, in some cases, indirectly, by deduction from
previously induced data. The inductive processes we have so far described, of observation
followed by generalization and particularization, are only a beginning. Once a number of
propositions have been developed in this way, they serve as premises in deductive
operations, whose conclusions may in turn be subjected to deductive scrutiny and
additional inductive advances and retreats.
But we are not limited to the pursuit of such laws of nature; we have a broader
inductive method, known as the process of adduction25.
This consists in postulating propositions which are not arrived at by mere
generalization and particularization, but involve novel terms. These novel terms are put
forward by the creative faculty, as tentative constructs (built out of more easily accessible
concepts26) which might conceivably serve to explain the generalities and particularities
(the laws) developed more directly out of empirical evidence, and hopefully to make
logical predictions and point the way to yet other empirical phenomena. The imagination,
here, is not however given free rein; it is disciplined by the logical connections its
postulates must have with already available data and with data which might eventually
arise.
Scientific theories (complexes of postulates and predictions) differ from wild
speculations in that (or to the extent that) they are grounded in experience through rational
processes. They must deductively encompass accepted laws, and they stand only so long as
they retain such a dominant position in relation to newly discovered phenomena. If logical
predictions are made which turn out to be empirically true, the postulates are regarded as
further confirmed - that is, their own probability of being true is increased. If however any
logical predictions are found to be clearly belied by observation, the postulates lose all

25

This is also called the hypothetico-deductive method or the scientific method.

26
A good example of this, is the Newtonian concept of 'force'. At the root of this scientific
concept are the notions obtained through our intimate experience of push and pull, speeding and
slowing. These intuitions give meaning to the idea of invisible attractions and repulsions between
physical bodies, which cause them to accelerate or decelerate as they visibly do. The invisible
factor of force is then quantified with reference to measurable changes of velocity. (Positivistic
philosophy regards the invisible factor as superfluous; but it is convenient and we do use it, and
furthermore, positivism itself makes use of such abstracts.) The 'novel terms' used in adduction are
always based on notions recycled from experience, through the imagination, by analogy, into a new
context. What gives the process scientific legitimacy is the check-and-balance provided by
adduction.

16

JUDAIC LOGIC

credibility and must be rejected, or at least somehow modified. Theories always remain
subject to such empirical testing, however often confirmed.
Thus, knowledge of nature proceeds by examining existing data, making intelligent
hypotheses as to what might underlie the given phenomena, showing that the phenomena at
hand are indeed deductively implied by the suggested postulates, and testing our
assumptions with reference to further empirical investigations. However, there is one more
component to the scientific method, which is often ignored. It is not enough to adduce
evidence in support of our pet theory; and the fact that we have not yet found any grounds
for rejecting it does not suffice to maintain it....
We must also consider all conceivable alternative theories, and if we cannot find
grounds for their rejection, we should at least show that our preferred theory has the most
credibility. This comparative and critical process is as important as the constructive aspect
of adduction. To the extent that there are possible challenges to our chosen theory, it is
undermined - that is, its probability of being true is decreased. Evidence adduced in favor
of one set of postulates may thus constitute counter-evidence adduced against other
hypotheses. We may regard a thesis as inductively proved, only if we have managed to
eliminate all its conceivable competitors one by one. Very rarely - though it happens - does
a theory at the outset appear unchallenged, the exclusive explanation of available
information, and so immediately proved. Also note, at the opposite extreme, we are
sometimes stumped, unable to suggest any explanation whatsoever.
c.

Deductive logic.

Now, two kinds of deduction are possible from the categorical propositions we
considered earlier: eduction and syllogism. Eduction (or immediate inference) consists in
drawing out from a single given proposition, some implicit information concerning the
same terms. Syllogism (or mediate inference) consists in drawing out from two given
propositions which have a term in common, some implicit information concerning the
other two terms involved. We call a given proposition, a premise, and an inferred one, a
conclusion; and all these propositions considered together are said to constitute an
argument. We need not here go into a systematic and exhaustive listing and analysis of
these processes.
An eductive conclusion merely changes the polarity of one or both terms in the
premise and/or their positions; the polarity of the copula may change or remain the same,
as appropriate. In all, there are seven processes; the primary two are obversion and
conversion, all other kinds being reducible to combinations of them. Though the various
processes are always applicable to the general forms; they are often inapplicable to one or
both of the particular forms. Note well that not all the processes are reversible; in some
cases, though the premise implies the conclusion, the conclusion does not imply the
premise. An example of eduction is: All Kohens are Levites; therefore, all non-Levites are
non-Kohens (this is contraposition of an A form, as defined below). In the following
definitions, S and P symbolize the initial subject and predicate, and - a positive or
negative copula:
1. Obversion merely changes the polarity of the predicate, moving from S-P to S-nonP. A,
E, I, O become E, A, O, I, respectively (all reversibly). The validity of obversion
proceeds from the laws of thought: S is P and S is not nonP are equivalent, because

INTRODUCTION

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

17

P and nonP are mutually exclusive and together exhaustive alternatives; the quantity
remains unaffected by it, because plural propositions are just sets of singulars.
Conversion merely transposes the subject and predicate, moving from S-P to P-S. A, I
both become I (only the latter reversibly); E becomes E (reversibly); but O is not
convertible. The validity of conversion, in the case of I, proceeds from the equivalence
of the conjunctives Some things are S and P and Some things are P and S, which
are respectively identical with Some S are P and Some P are S. A is convertible by
virtue of its implication of I; it is not, however, fully convertible, note well. E is
convertible, because it contradicts I.
Obverted conversion is achieved, where possible, by converting then obverting, moving
from S-P to P-nonS. A, I both become O (only the latter reversibly); E becomes A
(reversibly); but the process is inapplicable to O.
Conversion by negation is achieved, where possible, by obverting, then converting,
from S-P to nonP-S. A becomes E (reversibly); E, O both become I (only the latter
reversibly); but the process is inapplicable to I.
Contraposition is achieved, where possible, by obverting, then converting, then
obverting, moving from S-P to nonP-nonS. A becomes A (reversibly); E, O, both
become O (only the latter reversibly); whereas I is not contraposable. (Note well that E
is not contraposable to E.)
Inversion is movement from S-P to nonS-nonP. This is achieved (irreversibly, note): for
A, by contraposing, then converting, to obtain I; for E, by converting, then
contraposing, to obtain O; whereas the particulars I, O are not invertible.
Obverted inversion is achieved (irreversibly, note), where possible, by inverting, then
obverting, moving from S-P to nonS-P. A becomes O; E becomes I; while the process is
inapplicable to the particulars, I and O.

Syllogistic arguments are distinguished by the interplay of their figures and moods.
The figure of a syllogism is the way its three terms are arranged in the two premises and
the conclusion. The mood of a syllogism is an expression of the quantity and polarity of its
three propositions. A specific figure/mood of syllogism is said to be valid if its premises,
whether they are materially true or false, together formally imply its conclusion; otherwise
it is invalid, even if the premises and conclusion happen to be true. The issue of validity is
primarily an issue of dependence, not of truth, note well.
The premises are named the minor premise and the major premise. The term found
in both premises is known as the middle term (we will symbolize it by a Y) - this term is
absent in the conclusion; the remaining terms are known as the minor term (symbol, X)
and major term (symbol, Z), like their corresponding premises - these terms reappear in the
conclusion, as its subject and predicate respectively. Traditionally, a mood is identified by
explicitly listing its major premise, its minor premise, and its conclusion, in that specific
order; although in practical discourse they may appear in any order, and sometimes one or
two of them may be left tacit. As shown below, there are four conceivable figures of
syllogism:

18

JUDAIC LOGIC

Figures
Major premise
Minor premise
Conclusion

First
Y-Z
X-Y
X-Z

Second
Z-Y
X-Y
X-Z

Third
Y-Z
Y-X
X-Z

Fourth
Z-Y
Y-X
X-Z

Now, if we take as our propositional arsenal the forms A, E, I, O, which we defined

earlier, and we examine all their combinations closely (a simple calculation shows that
there are 43=64 conceivable moods in each figure), we find that only 23 syllogisms are
logically valid (that is, a mere 9% of the total)! Of these, only 13 need concern us (the
other 10 are of derivative importance); they are:
Figure one:
Figure two:
Figure three:
Figure four:

AAA, AII, EAE, EIO.

AEE, AOO, EAE, EIO.
AII, IAI, EIO, OAO.
EIO.

More explicitly, we have the following significant valid moods in the various
figures. Notice the symmetries and asymmetries.
Figure One:
1/AAA:
All Y are Z
All X are Y
All X are Z

1/AII:
All Y are Z
Some X are Y
Some X are Z

1/EAE:
No Y is Z
All X are Y
No X is Z

1/EIO:
No Y is Z
Some X are Y
Some X are not Z

2/AOO:
All Z are Y
Some X are not Y
Some X are not Z

2/EAE:
No Z is Y
All X are Y
No X is Z

2/EIO:
No Z is Y
Some X are Y
Some X are not Z

3/IAI:
Some Y are Z
All Y are X
Some X are Z

3/EIO:
No Y is Z
Some Y are X
Some X are not Z

3/OAO
Some Y are not Z
All Y are X
Some X are not Z

Figure Two:
2/AEE:
All Z are Y
No X is Y
No X is Z
Figure Three:
3/AII:
All Y are Z
Some Y are X
Some X are Z

INTRODUCTION

19

Figure Four:
4/EIO:
No Z is Y
Some Y are X
Some X are not Z
The mood 1/AAA (nicknamed Barbara), is in fact the prototype of all syllogism,
and may be regarded as intuitively obvious; all others can be reduced to it, directly or
indirectly. We may use eductive processes and transpositions of premises for purposes of
validation; and we may also use a method called reduction ad absurdum. For instance, to
validate the argument if no Z is Y and some X are Y, then some X are not Z (2/EIO), we
would say for if all X were Z, then no X would be Y.
Here is an example of syllogism (mood 1/AAA, in which the middle term is, as it
happens, a compound predicate): All fishes with fins and scales are kosher; sardines are
fishes with fins and scales; therefore, sardines are kosher.
A few words on the logic of change are necessary, here, as we shall have occasion to refer
to this field in a later chapter. Change has two forms getting to be and becoming; propositions
involving these relations are known as transitive categoricals, in contrast to attributive categoricals,
which involve the copula is. While X is Y refers to a static relation between the terms, X
changes to Y refers to a dynamic relation such that something X was previously not Y, and later Y.
In X gets to be Y, what is X and not Y initially, is Y and still or again X finally; whereas in X
becomes Y, what is X and not Y initially, is Y and no longer X finally. Thus, the former
concerns superficial change (the thing remains X when it appears as Y), the latter fundamental
change (or metamorphosis, the thing ceases to be X before it reappears as Y). The distinction is most
evident in the limiting case: while X cannot be or get to be nonX, it can become nonX; note this
well.
The concept of change and the distinction between superficial and fundamental change are
of great significance to syllogistic logic. For instance, with reference to natural modality, the
premises All Y must be Z, and X can be Y yield a valid conclusion X can be Z (in the first figure,
with necessary major premise and potential minor premise, the conclusion is potential). However,
the premises All Y can be Z, and X can/must be Y do not similarly yield the conclusion X can be
Z, as we might at first sight imagine, but X can get to be or become Z; in the case of a potential
major premise (first figure), the valid conclusion is still potential, but it is not a single categorical, it
is a choice of two categoricals! For here, the given premises, though they affirm the minor and
major terms separately, do not guarantee them capable of coexistence: it is conceivable, and it
happens, that they are incompatible.
We see from this pivotal case that the relations of being and becoming are formally
interlaced in the theory of syllogism (the role played by modality in this is secondary: it merely
abstracts the temporal element). Many other syllogisms of the same kind are valid, notably All Y
can become Z, and X can/must be Y; therefore, X can get to be or become Z, or All Y must
become Z, and X can be Y; therefore, X can get to be or become Z, or All Y must become Z, and
X must be Y; therefore, X must get to be or become Z. (Note that get to be may replace be in
such arguments, since the former logically implies the latter.) We need not go further into this field
for our purposes here.

With regard to conditional propositions, various deductive processes have also been
identified. We shall here briefly focus only on logical conditioning, and mainly on
propositions of specifically hypothetical form, like if P, then Q or if P, not-then Q.
We have, to begin with, eductions, the most notable of which are conversion
(shown below) and contraposition (shown earlier, when the forms were first defined):

20

JUDAIC LOGIC

If P, then Q (=P and not-Q impossible) is normally convertible to If Q, not-then

not-P (=Q and not-not-P possible), for if Q implied not-P, then P would be selfcontradictory.
If P, not-then not-Q (=P and not-not-Q possible) is convertible to If Q, not-then
not-P (=Q and not-not-P possible), for if Q implied not-P, then P would imply notQ, contradicting the premise.
We also have syllogistic arguments, very similar to those encountered previously;
some important examples:
1st Figure:

2nd Figure:

3rd Figure:

If Q, then R,
if P, then Q,
so, if P, then R.

If Q, then R,
if P, then not-R,
so, if P, then not-Q.

If R, not-then not-Q,
if R, then P,
so, if P, not-then not-Q.

If Q, then R,
if P, not-then not-Q,
so, if P, not-then not-R.

If Q, then R,
if P, not-then R,
so, if P, not-then Q.

If R, then Q,
if R, not-then not-P,
so, if P, not-then not-Q.

All such arguments can normally be validated with reference to the first of them
here listed, by direct or indirect reduction. Note that the first two examples here given,
involving only positive hypotheticals, may be referred to as uppercase syllogisms, whereas
the others, involving negative hypotheticals, may be referred to as lowercase moods;
because, effectively, positive hypotheticals are analogous to general categoricals, while
negative hypotheticals have properties similar to particulars.
Another important kind of deduction is apodosis, which has two essential moods,
one positive, one negative27:
Modus Ponens:
If P, then Q,
and P,
whence, Q.

Modus Tollens:
If P, then Q,
but not-Q,
whence, not-P.

Hypothetical propositions can often be derived from non-hypothetical propositions

by a process called production. All the results of formal logic can be viewed as productive
in this sense. For example, the premises All Y are Z and some X are Y, within the
primary, Aristotelian perspective, yield the categorical conclusion some X are Z.
However, one can also draw a secondary conclusion of extensional conditional form, if
27

Note that the valid moods of apodosis consist in 'affirming the antecedent' or 'denying the
consequent'. To 'affirm the consequent' or 'deny the antecedent' is invalid from a deductive point of
view; but note that such reasoning has inductive value, respectively 'confirming the antecedent' or
'weakening the consequent' (see comments on adduction in the next chapter).

INTRODUCTION

21

any X is Y, it is Z; or again tertiary conclusions of logical conditional form, like if all Y

are Z and some X are Y, then some X are Z.
In dealing with logical conditioning, it is important to distinguish normal and
paradoxical forms. Some arguments involving hypothetical propositions are valid
independently of this issue, while others are only valid specifically in cases where neither
thesis is internally inconsistent. We cannot go into this matter in detail here, only briefly
touch upon it....
In its broadest sense, the form if P, then Q allows for paradox: if we substitute
not-P for Q we obtain the proposition if P, then not-P. This proposition is formally
possible, since it merely tells us, according to our original definition, that P and not-not-P
cannot be true - and from it we can infer that P cannot be true. Note well that the
hypothetical if P then not-P is not itself faulty, but clearly reveals to us the logical
impossibility of the antecedent P, and therefore incidentally the logical necessity of the
consequent not-P. We say, therefore, that if P, then not-P is a paradoxical proposition or
argument, yielding that P is self-contradictory and not-P is self-evident. Needless to say,
the form if not-P, then P would have the opposite result (namely, P).
Paradoxical argument is seldom encountered in practice; but when it is feasible, it
usually justifies some fundamental pillar of human knowledge. An example: If we assert
that humans cannot know anything for sure, we are effectively claiming certain
knowledge for ourselves in that case at least; our explicit assertion is therefore implicitly
self-contradictory and false; it follows that humans can know some things for sure is true
and self-evident. Note that self-evident means immediately evident or obvious,
independently of any knowledge context, and therefore evident in all knowledge contexts;
this may be contrasted to contextually evident, which refers to what seems evident in
some contexts, but might eventually not be so in others.
Such inference may also, more commonly, occur indirectly, in the process known
as simple dilemma. This kind of argument was historically one of the first noticed by the
Greeks28. Two moods have been identified:
Constructive mood:
If P then R and if Q then R,
but P or Q (or both);
therefore, R.

Destructive mood:
If R then P and if R then Q,
but not-P or not-Q (or both);
therefore, not-R.

Here again, a relatively categorical conclusion is drawn from conditional

premises29. A similar kind of inference, also with two moods, which however yield only
disjunctive conclusions, is complex dilemma:

28

Sophists, if I remember rightly; long before Aristotle, anyway. A Biblical example of such
arguments is 2 Kings 7:4, which goes roughly like this: if we enter the city, we die; if we stay at the
gate, we also die; but if we go to the enemys camp, we might be spared. This may be viewed as
partly a dilemmatic argument (whether we enter city or stay at gate, we die), but more broadly as a
disjunctive argument (listing three alternatives, eliminating two, leaving one).
29
With appropriate substitutions, it is easy to show that paradox is a special case of simple
dilemma. Put "not-P" instead of "Q" and "P" instead of "R"; the constructive mood involving "if notP, then P" yields P, and the destructive mood involving "if P, then not-P" yields not-P.

22

JUDAIC LOGIC

Constructive mood:
If P then R and if Q then S,
but P or Q (or both);
hence, R or S (or both).

Destructive mood:
If R then P and if S then Q,
but not-P or not-Q (or both);
hence, not-R or not-S (or both).

Much more can of course be written about all the forms and processes mentioned
above , and others still. The science of logic, as above briefly presented, dissects our
thinking processes into small units, studying each one carefully. In practice, these formal
units are combined together and permuted in every possible way, usually with many
intermediate steps left unuttered (whether out of dishonesty, ignorance, laziness or merely
to avoid saying the obvious). The person who studies logic becomes adept at analyzing any
reasoning he/she encounters with reference to its formalities, and is thus able to evaluate it
accurately.
I refer readers open to further study of formal logic to text-books found in the
market, and especially to my own work Future Logic. In the present volume, however, we
must move on to more specific concerns.
30

30

We may, for instance, note the formal continuity between apodosis and dilemma. Simple
dilemma uses a vaguer premise than apodosis (disjunctive, instead of categorical) to yield an as
definite conclusion (categorical), while in complex dilemma the conclusion is vaguer (disjunctive).

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

23

2. ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH.

This chapter is intended mainly for historians of logic, or historians of philosophy,

though it includes a brief overview of epistemology of value to all, and some interesting
comments on prophecy.

1.

The Art of Knowing.

Induction, as an epistemological concept, refers to the logical processes through

which all propositions, and their various constituents, are gradually developed. Some
philosophers have tended to define induction as the pursuit of general principles from
particular ones, but such a formula is too limited and only reflects the greater difficulty of
and interest in that specific issue. In the largest sense, induction includes all the following
factors of cognition:
perception (direct consciousness of concrete phenomena, whether material/sensory or
mental/intimate) and conception (direct consciousness of abstract phenomena31 or
indirect consciousness of anything), as well as recognition (memory of percepts and
concepts) and imagination (perceptual or conceptual projection);
identification (awareness of similarities between phenomena) and differentiation
(awareness of differences between phenomena), which make possible classification
(grouping), often accompanied by verbalization (naming);
formulating propositions, with varying degrees of awareness, sometimes but not
always verbally, which relate together various percepts and concepts in various ways
(first as possible potential particulars);
generalization and particularization (including the techniques of factorization, factor
selection, and formula revision - see my work Future Logic for details), which are the
processes through which one discovers how far one may extend or one must narrow the
applicability of propositions;

31

The process of abstraction consists in ignoring (excluding from consciousness) all but
certain aspects of something perceived in whatever way; this process precedes the comparisons,
contrasts and mental manipulations through which we conceptualize.

24

JUDAIC LOGIC

deduction, the inference of some new proposition(s) from one or more given
proposition(s) of any kind, through a host of processes like opposition, eduction,
syllogism, a-fortiori, apodosis, paradox, and others;
adduction, the formation and tailoring of postulates, as well as their testing and
confirmation or elimination, with reference to rational-empirical considerations (more
on this topic below).
All the above depend on reference to the main Laws of Logic, which ensure the
ultimate fullness and harmony of knowledge, namely:
1. Identity - acknowledging all phenomena cognized, as being at least
appearances, and so problemacies with varying credibilities, whether ultimately
found to be realities or illusions; never ignoring data or issues. (This is what we
mean by facts are facts.)
2. Non-Contradiction - not acknowledging as real, but insisting as partly or
wholly illusory, any set of propositions cognized as incompatible, whatever their
levels of abstraction and cognitive roots; always pursuing consistency in ones
knowledge. (Contradictions are impossible in reality.)
3. Exclusion of the Middle - not rejecting all possible alternatives, but seeking
resolution of conflicts, through some new alternative or some commonalty;
seeking solutions to all problems. (There is no nebulous middle ground between
being and not-being.)
Now, these various factors of cognition play a joint role in the acquisition of
knowledge, and although here listed in a logical manner, with some subdivisions and in a
semblance of chronological order, they in actual practice function very interdependently,
feeding off each others results in every which way and in no set order. Furthermore, they
are here described very succinctly, so much so that their individual, relative and collective
significances may be missed if one does not take time to reflect.
This brief overview of the theory of knowledge should be understood as both
descriptive and prescriptive. That is to say, there is no essential difference between the
palette of cognitive processes used by different human beings, be they common folk or
expert scientists, trained in logic or purely instinctive, male or female, young or old, of
whatever class or people, healthy or sick. This must be stressed: everyone has more or less
the same cognitive tools; some people are, there is no denying it, better endowed, others
somewhat handicapped, but their overall arsenal is roughly the same, as above listed.
What distinguishes individuals is perhaps rather the effort and skill they exercise
with these same instruments, in each given context. Knowing is an art, and artists may vary
in style and quality. Some people lay more stress on experience, others on reasoning,
others on their emotions. Some people are more visual, some more auditory, some more
touch-sensitive. Some people are excessively categorical or class-conscious, too verbal in
their thinking, to the detriment of intuition; some people are slaves to their passions,
exercising insufficient control on the objective quality of their thought processes. And so
forth - but in any case, the range of faculties available to human beings is roughly the
same. The art, as with music, as with painting, is to find a balance - the right measure, the
right time and place, for each instrument.

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

25

It must be added that two people equally skilled in the art of knowing (or one
person at different times) may arrive at different specific conclusions, due to different
contexts of knowledge. The content and volume of ones experience - in the largest sense
of the term experience, including material and mental perceptions and conceptual insights has a direct influence on ones logic, affecting ones every rational process.

2.

Adduction in Western Philosophy.

Logic, since Antiquity and throughout the Middle Ages, in Europe at least, has
been associated more specifically with deduction, because that was the field in which the
most impressive theoretical work had been done, mainly by Aristotle. Only in recent
centuries was a greater stress laid, thanks in large part to practitioners like Newton, on the
experiential aspects of knowing (by philosophers like Locke and Hume) and on its
adductive aspects (by philosophers like Bacon and Mill); and in more recent times on the
crucial role of imagination in theory formation (by Einstein, for instance).
This does not mean to say that induction, nor more specifically adduction, are novel
concepts as such. People certainly always used all the factors of induction in their everyday
efforts at knowing - they used their senses and their heads, to try and make sense of the
world around them, sometimes more wildly than we do, sometimes more rigidly,
sometimes more sensibly perhaps. Also, we have to admit that Aristotle, after some four or
five centuries of development in Greek philosophy including his predecessors Socrates and
Plato, was well aware of the primary issue of induction, the so-called problem of
universals (namely, how concepts are known).
Indeed, his formal work in logic, including on opposition, on immediate inference
and on the syllogism, was a lucid attempt, however incomplete, to solve just that problem.
Deduction, in Aristotles view, was not apart from induction, or against it, but rather a
major aspect of induction. For him, it seems, certain generalities were known directly and
indubitably (like the axioms of logic), others had to be developed empirically (seemingly,
by complete enumeration); thereafter, one could arrive by inference to all other general
principles. The grey areas in that view were, no doubt, the source and validity, and the
number, of the initially given top principles, as well as the scope of empiricism in the light
of the practical difficulties in complete enumeration.
Today, we would certainly agree that deduction is one of the instruments of
induction - needed to infer predictions from postulates for testing purposes, and more
broadly, to pursue consistency. The grounds of knowledge, in our view, are primarily
experiential data, whether concrete or abstract, and to a lesser extent self-evident
propositions whose contradictories are self-contradictory. We are more aware of the
hypothetical and tentative nature of much of knowledge; and instead of complete
enumeration, we refer to processes like generalization and particularization.
But if we regard the perceptual and conceptual phenomena which are the startingpoints of knowledge as being effectively axioms (in an enlarged sense of the term), then
our view is seen as not much different from Aristotles in essence, though varying in detail
and emphasis. The historical point I am trying to make is certainly not, that Aristotle was
omniscient and as fully aware of epistemological questions and answers as we are today.
Rather, that in his time and earlier still, a search for such questions and answers was
already in motion, and a spirit of intelligence, honesty and objectivity was already at work,
so that to make a fair assessment we must focus on his contributions instead of his blanks.

26

JUDAIC LOGIC

I think it is important for historians to keep in mind that philosophers are human.
They do not have time to put everything they know or think into words, down on paper.
Often, too, they intuit a larger horizon than they have the time to actually tread in detailed
thought. No one philosopher can therefore be expected point out and clarify every aspect
of induction, or to develop a truly full spectrum of logical techniques. Not saying
something is not necessarily not knowing it, or at least being on the way to know it. Some
unimaginative disciples, as well as historians, tend to ossify philosophies, and make them
seem more rigid and limited than they were to their living wellsprings.
Thus, the suggestion that general propositions are arrived at by complete
enumeration, attributed by some historians to Aristotle, contains within it the seeds of
empiricism. We today certainly acknowledge the major role played by partial enumeration
- this is how particular propositions are known: one experiences one or more cases of a
kind to have a certain attribute or behavior, and one expresses that observation verbally,
without thereby presuming to comment on the unobserved cases or to claim that they have
the same attribute or behavior.
This is the common ground, between us and Aristotle; the issue is only, how one
moves up from there to generalities. Complete enumeration may have been, for Western
philosophy, a first and tentative suggestion; but upon reflection it was soon enough seen to
be an impractical ideal, because most classes we deal with are open-ended. Today, we
realize that the answer is to be found in the trial and error processes of generalization and
particularization, or more broadly speaking in adduction.
Nevertheless, in spite of their manifest deep roots in the past, it is evident that until
the Enlightenment the concept and laws of adduction were relatively little discussed and
little understood, in Western philosophy at least. Historians tend to attribute to Francis
Bacon (1561-1626, London) the clear formulation of these laws. As Anthony Quinton
points out, the crucial innovation in Bacons new method was that it was eliminative
(major est vis instantiae negativae). Bacon also gave due credit to the positive aspects of
induction (i.e. observation and confirmation), and he made explicit many of the pitfalls
possible in the course of such processes (which he referred to as idols).
Needless to say, Bacons words were not the last on the subject; many further
contributions have happily been made since then. Whatever their precise history, the Laws
of Adduction may be expressed as done below. By postulate is meant a set of imagined
propositions of yet unsettled truth. By experience is meant any appearance, preferably
concrete rather than abstract, taken as is, as it appears, as a mere configuration of
phenomena, without classificatory work of comparison and contrast to other, remembered
phenomena. By confirmation or weakening of a thesis is meant adding or subtracting
some credibility from it; whereas by proof or disproof is meant extreme credibility or
incredibility.
1. If some postulate has certain necessary logical implications, and these
implications are found to be in accord with experience, the postulate is thus
far confirmed, though not necessarily proved (Positive Law).
2. If some postulate has certain necessary logical implications, and these
implications are found to be in discord with experience, the postulate is
disproved, and not merely weakened (Negative Law).

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

27

These laws may be explained, and unified, with reference to the concept of
probability, and on the same basis many corollaries can be derived from them. The
corollaries emerge from the consideration of competing postulates - a couple of examples:
every time a postulate is confirmed, while a competitor is not confirmed, then the latter is
weakened; when a postulate is disproved, then all its remaining competitors (whether
known or unknown alternatives) are strengthened (though all equally so, unless some of
them predicted the disproving experience, rather than merely accepted it). However, these
issues and details are too voluminous for the present study (see my work Future Logic).

3.

Adducing Prophecies and Prophethood.

Adduction is generally regarded as a historically relatively recent philosophical

concept, and those who do so, whether out of traditionalist or modern tendencies, may
therefore consider that its application to Biblical or Talmudic contexts is an anachronism.
The truth of the matter, in my view and I will now demonstrate it, is exactly the opposite.
The laws of adduction are found almost explicitly formulated already in the Torah of
Moses, evidence of a very early logical maturity, and it is not surprising therefore that they
should have been used with such frequency and skill in Talmudic times32.
The essentials of adductive method are given in two passages of Deuteronomy. I
will now quote them and explain the aspects of adduction that each clarifies (referring to
the positive and negative laws written in the previous section). Note that the term
prediction, used below, should be understood to comprise all descriptive details of the
event(s) concerned, including eventual time limits and location.
FIRST LAW: Deuteronomy 13: 2-4.
If there arise in the midst of thee a prophet, or a dreamer of dreams - and
he give thee a sign or wonder, and the sign or wonder come to pass, whereof he
spoke unto thee - saying: Let us go after other gods, which thou hast not known,
and let us serve them; thou shalt not hearken unto the words of that prophet, or
unto that dreamer of dreams; for the Lord your God putteth you to proof, to know
whether ye do love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.
SECOND LAW: Deuteronomy 18:21-22.
And if thou say in thy heart: How shall we know the word which the Lord
hath not spoken? When a prophet speaketh in the name of the Lord, if the thing
follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which the Lord hath not spoken; the
prophet hath spoken it presumptuously, thou shalt not be afraid of him.

32

Notwithstanding, the Talmud, in its effort at creating dogmas, at least as we view it

nowadays, preferred to keep these adductive processes relatively hidden and tacit, so as to give
the impression, false but convenient, of being a purely deductive discipline - but that is another
issue.

28

JUDAIC LOGIC

Evidently, the first law deals with the positive aspect of adduction: it acknowledges
the natural tendency of humankind to be moved to belief by correct prediction (the
prophecied event empirically comes to pass, i.e. occurs), but it comes to teach us that
such confirmation does not constitute proof, and therefore that good reason may yet be
found to reject the thesis in question (such as its calling for a turn to other gods). The
second law elucidates the negative aspect of adduction: it suggests that false theses
ultimately stumble, teaching that incorrect prediction (the prophecied event empirically
follows not, nor comes to pass, i.e. does not occur as and when predicted) is not merely a
weakness but constitutes disproof, so that the thesis in question must be eliminated.
The logical value of these biblical statements, the legitimacy of their interpretation
as here done as general epistemological principles, is (I think all will agree) manifest. Note
well the empiricist criteria explicitly given here: the prediction comes to pass or comes
not to pass; the thesis in question (the prophecy) is tested empirically with reference to
public events and not solely by the (rationalistic) comparison to the religious document or
tradition.
The following comments are incidental to this overriding issue, but while we are on
the subject of prophecy they are worth making.
We have to note for the record that traditional commentators have, with reference
to passages relating to prophecy found throughout the Tanakh, further refined the above
rules, and thereby incidentally showed their full understanding of their implications. They
pointed out that the two Deuteronomic rules were formulated with reference to false
prophets. They are logical techniques for the identification and evaluation of candidates for
the dignity of prophet, teaching us not to automatically believe those who claim to be
mouthpieces for God and how to find out that they are not.
I was told by R. Abraham Y. Schlesinger of Geneva (but have not verified it) that
the refinements under discussion are elucidated notably by Maimonides, in Hilkhot Yesodei
haTorah 10:4; as for the Talmudic source, it is not the Babylonian but the Jerusalem
Talmud, namely Sanhedrin 15:5, Ani mitnabei.... However, I found the main Biblical
source thanks to the Encyclopaedia Judaica article on prophets and prophecy: it is Jeremiah
28:8-9, which I now quote (Yirmeyahu is talking to Chananyah ben Azur, a rival prophet,
who has promised good things for the Judeans):
The prophets that have been before me and before thee of old prophesied
both against many countries, and against great kingdoms, of war, and of evil, and
of pestilence. As for the prophet who prophesies for peace, when the word of that
prophet shall come to pass, then shall it be known that the Lord has truly sent the
prophet.
This passage implies that if a prophet made a prediction which did not come to
pass, it did not follow that he was not a true prophet. It depended on the polarity of the
prophecy in question. If it constituted a blessing from God, then once announced it had to
come to pass, because Gods blessings are irrevocable. If what was predicted was a curse,
it might well not come to pass and yet still be true, because such negative prophecies are
always (i.e. up until they are realized) conditional and contingent on the eventual failure of
the audience to repent and change their ways (as in the story of Jonah and Nineveh, for
instance).

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

29

The proposal is consistent. We may just add that the same loophole, in fairness,
equally well applies to prophetic candidates as to established prophets. In other words,
negative predictions of theirs which do not come to pass, do not disqualify them, either;
only positive predictions which do not come to pass, do. For an example in the Bible (other
than the above mentioned by Chananyah) of false positive prediction, look at 1 Kings 22
(and 2 Chronicles 18), where some 400 prophets in the court of Achav (Ahab) promised
him victory over the Arameans, while only Micah foresaw the death of the king of
Samaria.
It should be noted that good and bad are often relative - what is good for one person
or group may be bad for another, and vice versa, or even with regard to one and the same
person something may be good in some respects or at some time and bad in/at others.
Blessings are often mixed. Assumably, the evaluation of a prediction as positive or
negative is made with reference to the terms of the prophecy itself: whom it intends to
favor or disfavor, how, and when.
With regard to prophecies of neutral events, like some astronomical events or
perhaps some unnatural apparition in public, without good or bad impact on human lives,
other than serving to reveal the predictive power of the prophet, (I assume that) they fall
under the Deuteronomic rules quoted earlier. Which means, neutral events predicted by a
reputable prophet are bound to come to pass; and, a prophetic candidate predicting neutral
events which fail to occur is disqualified.
Note that the Enc. Jud. article mentioned above points out that, even with the
refined rules proposed by Jeremiah, difficulties arise when prophecies accepted as true by
tradition are tested with reference to later events as described in the Bible itself. However,
such difficulties are generally surmountable, because one may always ex post facto
interpret even failed positive prophecies as having, as in the negative cases, been tacitly
conditional33. One can say that the good things were promised to happen, provided we
stayed on our positive path or improved our ways in certain obvious ways, just as one can
say that the bad things were promised to happen, unless we got off our negative path and
improved our ways.
One more comment which may be profitably made in this context, with regard to
prophecies, whether in the Bible or in the analogous documents of other religions or sects,
is that they are very often sufficiently vague, with regard to time and place, if not with
regard to descriptive details, that they can be evaluated rather generously by those who
already believe in them and additionally be twisted by interpretation to fit any scenario
they wish. Prophecies are not always conveniently vague, of course; for instance, in Jer.
28, Chananyah sets a two year time limit for his prophecy and Yirmeyahu, a clear one year
for his.
33

That this is an accepted and used manner of reasoning by traditional commentators may
be demonstrated with reference to a difficulty in Gen. 28, pointed out by R. Adin Steinsalz in a talk
in Geneva recently. During Jacob's dream of the ladder, God promises him many good things (v.
13-15), yet immediately thereafter Jacob seems to doubt these promises, when he says "If God will
be with me..." (v. 20-22). The explanation Rashi gives (according to R. Steinsalz, but I did not find
the place) is that Jacob understood God's promises as depending on his continued good conduct,
i.e. on his remaining the same person. Thus, here a positive promise is taken as tacitly conditional.
Incidentally, R. Steinsalz himself offered an alternative explanation of Jacob's doubt:
namely, that Jacob may not have been sure whether his dream was indeed a prophecy or merely
the wishful thinking of a worried traveler. But, though this explanation is psychologically interesting,
epistemologically it implies that a prophet can doubt his own prophecy. Such a premise would, in
my view, put all prophecies in doubt; we must assume that the prophetic experience is intrinsically
indubitable, or else it loses its special status.

30

JUDAIC LOGIC

Some of these comments no doubt sound very skeptical, but one must be honest
and see: just what is being prophecied, in relation to whom exactly, and precisely when and
where. Without these specifications it is very hard to apply the adductive laws in a strict
and conclusive manner. The real difficulty is to know where to draw the line, between
justification and pretext; for this we must refer to context: the past reputation of the
prophet, the turn of subsequent events, and the overall theme of the Bible. (I do not here
even consider the issue of historicity, whether the events reported actually occurred; this
too calls for context, but still wider a context than that provided by the text itself.)
It is necessary to distinguish between the adductive evaluation of prophecies and
that of prophets. A prophet, one might say, is a bundle of prophecies. First, each prediction
must be evaluated, using the given principles; second, the person making the predictions is
evaluated, with reference to his/her overall record of predictions. This distinction is made
clear through the story of Bilaam, a false prophet who was nonetheless used, even against
his own will, by God as the vehicle of true prophecies which predicted the blessings of
Israel (Num. 22-24)34.
Another issue is to distinguish between claims to prophecy, and ordinary
predictions. Even if we regard (as I do, with gratitude) every item of knowledge, however
ordinary its methodology, however natural its source, as a wondrous gift from God - a
distinction must be drawn. The medieval commentator Nachmanides interprets terms in the
above quoted passages as follows: a prophet - one who claims that God communicated a
message to him while he was awake35; sign denotes the prediction of a natural incident,
while wonder implies the forecast of a supernatural event36. A meteorologist, say, makes
no claims to prophecy, yet forecasts the weather; we would judge him as an effective
scientist is his predictions were consistently (or even usually) right, but never assign him
prophetic powers.
What counts in the judgment concerning prophecy is the source of the knowledge,
or the methodology which led to it. If natural means are used, like satellites, even daily and
invariably correct predictions do not imply prophecy. This is equally true in the case of
predictions so vague that there is a natural probability that such and such a kind of event
happen at some time in the future somewhere in the world! Of course, the wild guesses of
charlatans, however convinced they themselves might be of the unnatural origins of their
predictions, are bound to turn out wrong sooner or later, and reveal the fakeness of their
authors. Prophecy, then, has to predict natural events unpredictable by ordinary means or
to predict supernatural events (which are, in any case, unpredictable by ordinary means).
The concept of an unnatural event presents logical difficulties, by the way. The
perfectly scientific mind has no preconceptions, no foreknowledge, regarding Nature or
what is natural; whatever happens, whatever happens to happen, is natural, and Nature is
34

This story is full of interesting details about prophecy. According to Nachmanides (Cohen,
p. 921), that Bilaam was not a prophet beyond the events recounted in it is suggested by the use of
the expressions "God came unto Bilaam" (22:9) and God or the Lord "met Bilaam" (23: 4, 16),
which suggest a non-habitual encounter (yikar) initiated by God (yavo). Furthermore, the
expression "the Lord put a word in Bilaam's mouth" (23: 5, 16) seems to imply a forcible takeover
by the Lord of Bilaam's faculties of speech, at least in the first two prophecies; in the third prophecy
"the spirit of God came upon him" (24:2). Other technical details include: having the eye opened
(24: 3, 15), hearing the words of God, seeing the vision of the Almighty, fallen down yet with
opened eyes (24: 4, 16), and knowing the knowledge of the Most High (24:16).
35
But see Num. 12:6-8, where a prophet is defined as someone to whom the Lord makes
Himself known in a vision or speaks to in a dream, with the exception of Moses who is spoken to
mouth to mouth, even manifestly, and not in dark speeches and who beholds the similitude of the
Lord (Cohen, p. 855).
36
Cohen, p. 1062.

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

31

the sum total of all things ever happening. Just because an event is unique, different from
routine events, it does not follow that it is unnatural, just less frequent. The definition of
magic or miracle would have to refer to some special genesis of event, like telekinesis or
supernatural intervention. However, once such event is established as capable of occurring
in this world, then we would have to include it in our concept of the World, and it would
thereby qualify as normal and natural in our expanded world-view. Thus, the term natural
is logically very relative; but we can still give it its understood connotation conventionally.
Also note: prediction is not, as commonly thought, the essential or even main
attribute of prophecy. Prophecy seems to be primarily a high-level relationship to God which, rather incidentally, implies special cognitive and other powers. The principal
prophets, like Moses, Samuel, Elijah, Elisha, and so forth, are especially spiritual leaders of
the Israelite and human community; their cognitive and other powers are mere means to
this end, the outer garb of their profound dignity.
In conclusion, to return to the central topic of the present chapter, I think that the
documentary evidence adduced above shows without shadow of a doubt that the Jewish
religious tradition had a very clear understanding of the two logical laws of adduction well
before Greek philosophy, let alone post-Renaissance Western philosophy. For those who
believe in the Divine source and traditional dating of Deuteronomy, these laws of logic
were God-given at Sinai some 3,300 years ago, almost 1,000 years before Aristotles time.
For those who doubt this, and regard the Book as of human and more recent origin, say
around the First Exile period - these laws of logic are still a couple of hundred years older
than Aristotles discoveries!37
However, it should be emphasized that (so far as I know) the Torah laws of
adduction were never highlighted and discussed by the Rabbis of the Talmud and after as
logical principles applicable to all thought. They evidently unconsciously practiced
adduction in their debates on the law, but they never enshrined such reasoning in a
hermeneutic principle or analyzed why it is effective. We could accuse them of having
doctrinal reasons for this silence, namely to prevent the development in people of scientific
modes of thought, which could weaken religion; but the truth is more probably simply that
they did not notice the hint in the Torah. Very probably, I would not have noticed it, either,
had I not studied philosophy, long after the advent of modern science; credit must be given
where it is due.

4.

One

Logic and Mysticism.

of the difficulties in religious thinking is its categorical expressions of

knowledge.
There exists a tendency, in the human mind, to confuse conceptual insight with
perception, and view them as having the same degree of probability. However, whereas
perception (and its derivatives, which we term empirical fact) has a rather high level of
37

In the case of Deuteronomy, which concerns us here, some say that it dates from the reign
of king Josiah, one of the last kings before the exile. Whatever the age of the Books of Moses, they
were apparently well established by the time of Ezra. Judging by the Book of Ezra, this period may
have been, rather, the starting point of Rabbinic Judaism, which reached its full momentum through
the Mishnah and Gemara.

32

JUDAIC LOGIC

credibility (rarely is what we perceive, as such, in an as near as possible unprocessed form,

found incorrect), conceptual consciousness has broader possibilities, as it includes the
imaginary, which allows us to propose alternative scenarios, and therefore relatively less
credibility, ab initio.
For the simple mind, which has not reflected on epistemological issues, the mere
event of thinking of a conceptual scenario in answer to some query, is sufficient in itself to
justify that scenario. No further evidence is needed, no checking procedure. Of course, this
is an extreme case. A person practicing this approach to knowledge full time, would be
most likely in a nuthouse, I presume. Rather, we all practice such shortcuts to knowledge,
though to varying degrees, and in some cases in different domains.
The danger here, is to confuse speculation with knowledge in its finished state.
Every insight or belief is strictly-speaking a speculation, which may be right or may
be wrong. After proper evaluation, which is itself to some extent speculative, we may be
closer to the truth, and may with more confidence declare it to be right or wrong. Such
evaluation consists in examining the perceptual and conceptual context, all known fact and
insight, and judging its consistency with the proposed newcomer, the thesis under scrutiny,
and considering the mutual impact of these blocks of information. Furthermore, the context
is in non-stop flux, so that the evaluation must constantly proceed and recur, to remain
accurate. Only thus can we be reasonably sure.
In the early stages of human development, whether historical or individual, we tend
to be less careful in our evaluations of knowledge. More maturely, we must regard our
alleged knowledge more critically and fairly, without prejudice one way or the other, more
objectively and freely. If we fail to, we in the long run must needs succumb to doubt, the
structure is bound to seem shaky eventually. If it is strong, it will withstand all tests; if it is
weak, it might be strengthened, or else does not deserve respect. This is a challenge
religion, too, must face, to survive.
Logic has no in principle objection to mysticism. It has no prejudice with regard to
the eventual content of the world. What concerns logic is the morphology and aetiology of
our knowledge, the forms and processes which gave rise to it. With regard to mysticism
(the Qabalah), it would seem to constitute an attempt to conceive scenarios - which are
speculations, at first sight, as far as logic is concerned - to explain certain phenomena or
texts. Since the questions posed concern domains inaccessible to scientific investigation,
the answers are, ultimately, inherently unverifiable, although some degree of confirmation,
doubt, improvement or rejection may be possible.
In other words, there are propositions which are not likely to ever be proved right,
or wrong, which may even be impossible to evaluate convincingly. They concern God, the
Beginning of things, the End of days, and so on. They are beyond Mans mind, because
they are out of his mental reach or outside of his universe. Anything said about them,
positive or negative, is purely speculative, from a normal human point of view. Even what
is claimed Divinely inspired, though it may well indeed be so in reality, is viewed by logic
as speculative; since we, ordinary people, when we hear such claims, are forced to consider
the possibility that the speaker may not have been inspired, for instance. It is a stand-off.
We must neither reject offhand, nor be naive, but must do as much evaluation as
possible, and still remain open at the end. This is to some extent implied by the Biblical
laws of adduction. The fact that these laws are found in the Torah, testifies to the need for a
certain degree of empiricism and exercise of the critical faculty. It is an admission that men
(or women), by their nature, may confuse their imaginations and speculations with reality,
and often come forth with unfounded claims of Divine inspiration. We are called upon to
judge carefully.

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

33

Even within religion, if not especially in that realm, people can very easily err, and
tend to accept the offerings of their conceptual faculty at face value. Which does not mean,
let us make clear, that such error is inevitably or even usually implied within religion.
The speculation concerning heavenly spheres provides us with a telling example. This
doctrine, made popular by the Safed mystics (16th Cent. CE), is reputed to be rooted in the
Talmudic literature and regarded as Jewish tradition of Mosaic origin, and is for this reason
considered as certain. Yet if we look at the historical record, a different picture emerges.
Seven celestial bodies close to Earth were known since antiquity, namely the Sun, the
Moon, and the five planets Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. These bodies were visibly
mobile, in distinction from the Stars which seemed relatively fixed38. To explain the suspension of
these celestial objects and the daily rotation of those closer to us in the sky, Plato and Aristotle (5th4th Cent. BCE) proposed the theory that there are concentric spheres around the Earth, seven of
them on which the heavenly bodies travel, and additionally an eighth sphere in which the stars, or
heavenly lights, are imbedded39. This theory was found to present certain difficulties, and was
consequently much refined by Ptolemaeus of Alexandria (2nd Cent. CE). The Ptolemaic model of
the universe, as it became known, remained accepted truth for centuries thereafter, until the
development of the Copernican model.
By Talmudic times the idea of heavenly spheres was culturally well-installed and
considered obvious. It is of course not totally inconceivable that it antedated the Greeks, but there is
no written evidence to this effect and it seems much more probable that it arrived in the Middle East
in the wake of Alexander the Great (who was a pupil of Aristotle). The Seven Heavens became a
fixture of Jewish mystical speculation, serving as much to transmit spiritual and ethical teachings as
to explain various aspects of our physical world. However, as it turned out, it was a bad investment:
new discoveries in relatively modern times in the field of Astronomy have completely overturned
this model.
Since Copernicus, we learned that the Earth, the Moon and the five planets rotate around
the Sun (the Earth does so in 365.25 days), and that the appearance of rotation of the Sun around the
Earth is rather due to the latters daily rotation around its own axis. Furthermore, the Sun was found
to be a burning ball, a fundamentally different entity from the six other neighbours of Earth; the
Stars were understood to be burning heavenly bodies like the Sun, and found to be moving in
various ways; the Moon was distinguished by its rotation around the Earth from the five other
planets, whose trajectories were rather parallel to that of the Earth40. Furthermore, previously
unknown planets, not to mention the Asteroids, were discovered: in 1781, the planet Uranus; in
1846, Neptune; in 1930, Pluto; and many of the eight planets were found to have moons of their
own; our Solar system was found to be but an average member of a galaxy of some 100,000 stars,
and the universe was found to consist of a multitude of scattered such galaxies each with a myriad of
stars and planets and moons and comets, all moving in various ways. And so forth.41
Now, the fact is that the Talmudic luminaries had no advance inkling of these major
developments in Astronomical science, and by all evidence later Jewish mystics like those of Safed
were ignorant of them even as they were occurring all around them. That these people all
38

Their positions were first mapped, apparently, by the Chaldeans. The maps depict the
Constellations dear to Astrologers.
39
More precisely, the stars were supposed to be holes in the fabric of the Eighth Heaven,
through which light was visible.
40
We can, in truth, still today, conceive of the celestial bodies as 'rotating' around the Earth.
That is, we can construct a model in which the Earth is Cartesian origin (geometrical zero point)
and all other bodies trace various paths relative to that origin. Such a model, which is the
Ptolemaic, would simply reflect the way we observe the sky, standing here on Earth. However, the
paths traced by the celestial bodies in such a model are very complicated and difficult to explain
and predict. The value of the Copernican model, which shifted the center of the world (actually, of
our solar system), was its ability to simplify the mathematical problem posed by the observed
trajectories. Galileo and Newton were then able to provide an explanation, with the concept of
gravity and the laws of mechanics, which neatly fitted in with this model.
41
It is not my object, here, to go into the history of Astronomy; but I have to list some facts to
put certain yeshivah students, steeped only in traditional learning, up to date! In any case, note
well, the mystic number of Seven cannot be changed into a mystic number of Ten.

34

JUDAIC LOGIC
constructed doctrines around theories which turned out to be unsound, or even out of date in their
own times, just goes to show that they cannot be considered, by any stretch of the imagination, to
have been omniscient and infallible. The Torah laws of adduction have to be applied, and
speculations which go against empirical evidence have to be rejected, however attached we may be
to their spiritual and ethical message. The only face-saving thing we can do is allegorize, and say
that the Spheres are spiritual domains, in a non-physical dimension of existence; or that they refer to
different levels of consciousness or states of mind.42

We may go further still, given the clear formulation of the laws of adduction in the
Torah. The fact that the Torah teaches this logical (inductive) process makes it kosher, and
indeed a mitzvah; it cannot be claimed by traditionalists to be a newfangled, foreign
technique, an invention of atheist or non-Jewish scientists. But moreover, if we look at the
context in which these laws are formulated, it becomes clear that they are to be applied
very widely (to the extent possible) - not only to the far-out speculations of mystics, but
also to the down-to-earth legal discussions of Halakhists.
For, if it is permissible, indeed imperative, to evaluate the truth of alleged
prophecies, then a-fortiori, all the more so, is it ethically, according to the Torah,
possible and necessary to evaluate the pronouncements of Rabbis, who are of lesser
rank in the spiritual hierarchy. And again, if we may and must evaluate these and
those religious leaders using adductive techniques, then a-fortiori, all the more so, we
may and must do so with all other inductive and deductive techniques, which are
more certain logically. It seems to me that these inferences are incontrovertible.
The Torah, in the above described laws, makes a clear statement in favour of
empiricism and use of the critical faculty. It does not recommend an unconditional
credulity towards apparent authorities: it demands integrity, a healthy reference to
objective fact and an intellectual judgment. The Torah does not condone the obsessive
believer, who denies his or her senses and his or her mind in pursuit of his or her
fantasies; or, sheeplike, of other peoples fantasies, be they sincere or manipulative. It
recommends a respect for truth, and due process in ensuring that truth. This viewpoint is
upheld in other passages of the Torah, notably Exod. 23:1-3 and Lev. 19:15...
Thou shalt not utter a false report; put not thy hand with the wicked to be an
unrighteous witness. Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil, neither shalt thou
bear witness in a cause to turn aside after a multitude to pervert justice; neither
shalt thou favour a poor man in his cause.
...nor favour the person of the mighty; but in righteousness thou shalt judge
thy neighbour.

42

Or again, that they symbolize the stages of Creation or the veils separating us from the
ultimate reality of the One. The Spheres postulate is, of course, but one component of the mystical
theory of the Sephirot. Another major component is the metaphysical idea of Emanation, according
to which the existence of the world is continually produced by emanation from God, through the
successive layers of the spheres. This idea is supposed to reinforce the concept of the
separateness of God, His distance and insulation from the lowly material world, while at the same
time stressing His sustenance of it. Our rejection of the Spheres idea, or at least of its physical
version, does not imply a rejection of the Emanationism. However, here again, we should take note
that the latter theory has, according to historians, Greek roots, coming to full expression in
Neoplatonism, with Plotinus (3rd Cent. CE). All this goes to show that philosophy (here, its natural
or metaphysical branches) has historically often enough affected Judaic thought, more so than
certain traditionalist opponents of philosophy were aware of or would care to admit.

ADDUCTIVE LOGIC IN THE TORAH

35

These statements (and others like them, e.g. Exod. 23:6-943; see also the relative
commentaries) are traditionally understood as relating especially to jurisprudence, to the
witnesses and judges in a tribunal. A witness is bound to say the truth precisely, neither
adding nor omitting information, not confusing fiction or evaluation with fact; a witness
must not, either, be moved by love, hate or indifference, nor let others sway his or her
testimony, for good or bad, by means of bribery, threats, or even ideological
considerations. A judge is bound to obtain and consider all the facts of the case; he must
not be diverted by any personal passions, or allow anyone to interfere with his judgment, to
influence it unduly; and at the moment of judgment, he must exercise his judgment to the
best of his ability, and not surrender his considered opinion, whether to higher authority
(in the case of less prestigious judges, who are required to vote first) or to majority opinion
(in the case of the more senior judges, who vote last).
The intent of such passages of the Torah is obviously primarily juridical, to found a
just society. But to achieve such a social and political result, a strong culture of honesty
and respect for truth above all is required. This implies ethical work, at a deeper, more
personal level; a habit of using ones faculties of cognition to their fullest potential, and
independently of inner or outer pressures logically irrelevant to the issues at hand. If people
habitually fail to put a supreme value on truth, then when the moment of witnessing or
judging arrives, they may easily stumble. Thus, the Torahs teaching, in passages like the
ones on prophecy and on justice is, if only indirectly, essentially cognitive. With regard to
religious and lay authorities, while the Torah elsewhere upholds them firmly (as pillars of
a good society), it here (I suggest) reminds us that they are human, capable of errors or lies,
and therefore to be evaluated honestly (that, too, being good for society).

43

We may also mention the Ninth Commandment, concerning false witness against one's
neighbor (Exod. 20:13, Deut. 5:17). Some commentators have referred to the commandments
relating to just weights and measures (Lev. 19:35-36, "ye shall do no unrighteousness in
judgment...," and Deut. 25:13-16), which may be viewed more broadly as calls to intellectual
honesty.

36

JUDAIC LOGIC

3. THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC.

We shall in this chapter present, as a propaedeutic, the main formalities of afortiori logic and in the next three chapters consider its roots and applications within
Judaic logic44. All the findings presented here are original.

1.

The Valid Moods.

Let us begin by listing and naming all the valid moods of a-fortiori argument

in
abstract form; we shall have occasion in later chapters to consider examples. We shall
adopt a terminology which is as close to traditional as possible, but it must be kept in mind
that the old names used here may have new senses (in comparison to, say, their senses in
syllogistic theory), and that some neologisms are inevitable in view of the novelty of our
discoveries.
An explicit a-fortiori argument always involves three propositions, and four terms.
We shall call the propositions: the major premise, the minor premise, and the conclusion,
and always list them in that order. The terms shall be referred to as: the major term
(symbol, P, say), the minor term (Q, say), the middle term (R, say), and the subsidiary
term (S, say). In practice, the major premise is very often left unstated; and likewise, the
middle term (we shall return to this issue in more detail later).
45

Table 3.1
FORM
Copulative
Implicational
POLARITY
(a) Positive
(b) Negative

Classification of A-Fortiori Arguments.

STRUCTURE
(1) Subjectal
(3) Antecedental
ORIENTATION
Minor to major
Major to minor

(2) Predicatal
(4) Consequental
Major to minor
Minor to major

We shall begin by analyzing copulative forms of the argument. There are

essentially four valid moods. Two of them subjectal in structure, and two of them

44

See also, after reading this chapter, Appendix 1, for further notes on a-fortiori.
Such arguments occur quite often in everyday discourse. I give you a couple of examples:
"if he can readily run a mile in 5 minutes, he should certainly be able to get here (1/2 a mile from
where he is now) in 15 minutes." Or again: "if my bus pass is transferable to other adults, I am sure
it can be used by kids."
45

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

37

predicatal in structure; and for each structure, one of the arguments is positive in polarity
and the other is negative.
a.

Subjectal moods.
(i) Positive version. (Minor to major.)
P is more R than Q (is R),
and, Q is R enough to be S;
therefore, all the more, P is R enough to be S.

As we shall see further on, a similar argument with P in the minor premise and Q in
the conclusion (major to minor) would be invalid.
(ii) Negative version. (Major to minor.)
P is more R than Q (is R),
yet, P is not R enough to be S;
therefore, all the more, Q is not R enough to be S.
As we shall see further on, a similar argument with Q in the minor premise and P in
the conclusion (minor to major) would be invalid.
b.

Predicatal moods.
(i) Positive version. (Major to minor.)
More R is required to be P than to be Q,
and, S is R enough to be P;
therefore, all the more, S is R enough to be Q.

As we shall see further on, a similar argument with Q in the minor premise and P in
the conclusion (minor to major) would be invalid.
(ii) Negative version. (Minor to major.)
More R is required to be P than to be Q,
yet, S is not R enough to be Q;
therefore, all the more, S is not R enough to be P.
As we shall see further on, a similar argument with P in the minor premise and Q in
the conclusion (major to minor) would be invalid.

38

JUDAIC LOGIC

The expression all the more used with the conclusion is intended to connote that
the inferred proposition is more forceful than the minor premise, as well as suggest the
quantitative basis of the inference (i.e. that it is a-fortiori). Note that instead of the words
and or yet used to introduce the minor premise, we could just as well have used the
expression nonetheless, which seems to balance nicely with the phrase all the more.
The role of the major premise is always to relate the major and minor terms (P and
Q) to the middle term (R); the middle term serves to place the major and minor terms along
a quantitative continuum. The major premise is, then, a kind of comparative proposition of
some breadth, which will make possible the inference concerned; note well that it contains
three of the terms, and that its polarity is always positive (this will be demonstrated further
down). The term which signifies a greater measure or degree (more) within that range, is
immediately labeled the major; the term which signifies a smaller measure or degree (less)
within that range, is immediately labeled the minor (these are conventions, of course). P
and Q may also conveniently be called the extremes (without, however, intending that
they signify extreme quantities of R).
Note that here, unlike in syllogism, the major premise involves both of the extreme terms
and the minor premise may concern either of them; thus, the expressions major and minor terms,
here, have a different value than in syllogism, it being the relative content of the terms which
determines the appellation, rather than position within the argument as a whole. Furthermore, the
middle term appears in all three propositions, not just the two premises.

The function of the minor premise is to positively or negatively relate one of the
extreme terms to the middle and subsidiary terms; the conclusion thereby infers a similar
relation for the remaining extreme. If the minor premise is positive, so is the conclusion;
such moods are labeled positive, or modus ponens in Latin; if the minor premise is
negative, so is the conclusion; such moods are labeled negative, or modus tollens. Note
well that the minor premise may concern either the major or the minor term, as the case
may be. Thus, the inference may be from major (term, in the minor premise) to minor
(term, in the conclusion) - this is known as inference a majori ad minus; or in the reverse
case, from minor (term, in the minor premise) to major (term, in the conclusion) - this is
called a minori ad majus.
There are notable differences between subjectal and predicatal a-fortiori. In
subjectal argument, the extreme terms have the logical role of subjects, in all three
propositions; whereas, in predicatal argument, they have the role of predicates.
Accordingly, the subsidiary term is the predicate of the minor premise and conclusion in
subjectal a-fortiori, and their subject in predicatal a-fortiori.
Because of the functional difference of the extremes, the arguments have opposite
orientations. In subjectal argument, the positive mood goes from minor to major, and the
negative mood goes from major to minor. In predicatal argument, the positive mood goes
from major to minor, and the negative mood goes from minor to major. The symmetry of
the whole theory suggests that it is exhaustive.
With regard to the above mentioned invalid moods, namely major-to-minor positive
subjectals or negative predicatals, and minor-to-major negative subjectals or positive
predicatals, it should be noted that the premises and conclusion are not in conflict. The
invalidity involved is that of a non-sequitur, and not that of an antinomy. It follows that
such arguments, though deductively valueless, can, eventually, play a small inductive role
(just as invalid apodoses are used in adduction).

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

39

Implicational forms of the argument are essentially similar in structure to

copulative forms, except that they are more broadly designed to concern theses
(propositions), rather than terms. The relationship involved is consequently one of
implication, rather than one of predication; that is, we find in them the expression
implies, rather than the copula is.46
c.

Antecedental moods.
(i) Positive version. (Minor to major.)
P implies more R than Q (implies R)
and, Q implies enough R to imply S; therefore,
all the more, P implies enough R to imply S.
(ii) Negative version. (Major to minor.)
P implies more R than Q (implies R)
yet, P does not imply enough R to imply S; therefore,
all the more, Q does not imply enough R to imply S.

d.

Consequental moods.
(i) Positive version. (Major to minor.)
More R is required to imply P than to imply Q
and, S implies enough R to imply P; therefore,
all the more, S implies enough R to imply Q.
(ii) Negative version. (Minor to major.)
More R is required to imply P than to imply Q
yet, S does not imply enough R to imply Q; therefore,
all the more, S does not imply enough R to imply P.

We need not repeat everything we said about copulative arguments for

implicational ones. We need only stress that moods not above listed, which go from major
to minor or minor to major in the wrong circumstances, are invalid. The essentials of
structure and the terminology are identical, mutatis mutandis; they are two very closely
related sets of paradigms. The copulative forms are merely more restrictive with regard to
which term may be a subject or predicate of which other term; the implicational forms are
46

"Implication" is to be understood here in a generic sense, applicable to all types of modality

- we shall avoid more specific senses, to keep things clear and simple.

40

JUDAIC LOGIC

more open in this respect. In fact, we could view copulative arguments as special cases of
the corresponding implicational ones47.
A couple of comments, which concern all forms of the argument, still need to be
made.
The standard form of the major premise is a comparative proposition with the
expression more...than (superior form). But we could just as well commute such major
premises, and put them in the less...than form (inferior form), provided we accordingly
reverse the order in it of the terms P and Q. Thus, P is more R than Q could be written Q
is less R than P, More R is required to be P than to be Q as Less R is required to be Q
than to be P, and similarly for implicational forms, without affecting the arguments. These
are mere eductions (the propositions concerned are equivalent, they imply each other and
likewise their contradictories imply each other), without fundamental significance; but it is
well to acknowledge them, as they often happen in practice and one could be misled. The
important thing is always is to know which of the terms is the major (more R) and which is
the minor (less R).
Also, it should also be obvious that the major premise could equally have been an
egalitarian one, of the form as much...as (e.g. P is as much R as Q (is R)). The
arguments would work equally well (P and Q being equivalent in them). However, in such
cases it would not be appropriate to say all the more with the conclusion; but rather use
the phrase just as much. Nevertheless, we must regard such arguments as still, in the
limit, a-fortiori in structure. The expression all the more is strictly-speaking a
redundancy, and serves only to signal that a specifically a-fortiori kind of inference is
involved; we could equally well everywhere use the word therefore, which signifies for
us that an inference is taking place, though it does not specify what kind.
It follows that each of the moods listed above stands for three valid moods: the
superior (listed), and corresponding inferior and egalitarian moods (unlisted).
Lastly, it is important to keep in mind, though obvious, that the form P is more R
than Q means P is more R than Q is R (in which Q is as much a subject as P, and R is a
common predicate), and should not be interpreted as P is more R than P is Q (in which P
is the only subject, common to two predicates Q and R, which are commensurable in some
unstated way, such as in spatial or temporal frequency, allowing comparison between the
degrees to which they apply to P). In the latter case, R cannot serve as middle term, and the
argument would not constitute an a-fortiori. The same can be said regarding P implies
more R than Q. Formal ambiguities of this sort can lead to fallacious a-fortiori reasoning48.
A-fortiori logic can be extended by detailed consideration of the rules of quantity. These
are bound to fall along the lines established by syllogistic theory. A subject may be plural (refer to
all, some, most, few, many, a few, etc. of the members of a class X) or singular (refer to an
individual, or to a group collectively, by means of a name or an indicative this or these X). A
predicate is inevitably a class concept (say, Y), referred to wholly (as in is not Y) or partly (as in
is Y); even a predicate in which a singular term is encrusted (such as pay Joe) is a class-concept,
47

The logical relationship between "is" and "implies" is well known. X "is" Y, in class-logic
terminology, if it is subsumed/included by Y, which does not preclude other things also being Y. X
"implies" Y, if it cannot exist/occur without Y also existing/occurring, even if as may happen it is not
Y. Thus, if X "is" Y, it also "implies" Y; but if X "implies" Y, it does not follow that it "is" Y. In other
words, "is" implies (but is not implied by) "implies"; "implies" is a broader more generic concept,
which covers but is not limited to "is", a narrower more specific concept.
48
For example: Jane is more good-looking than a nice girl; she is good-looking enough to win
a beauty contest; therefore, a nice girl is good-looking enough to win a beauty contest.

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

41

in that many subjects may relate to it independently (Each of us paid Joe). The extensions (the
scope of applicability) of any class concept which appears in two of the propositions (the two
premises, or a premise and the conclusion) must overlap, at least partly if not fully. If there is no
guarantee of overlap, the argument is invalid because it effectively has more than four terms. In any
case, the conclusion cannot cover more than the premises provide for.
In subjectal argument, whether positive or negative, since the subjects of the minor premise
and conclusion are not one and the same (they are the major and minor terms, P and Q), we can only
quantify these propositions if the major premise reads: for every instance of P there is a
corresponding instance of Q, such that: the given P is more R than the given Q. In that case, if the
minor premise is general, so will the conclusion be; and if the minor premise is particular, so will the
conclusion be (indefinitely, note). This issue does not concern the middle and subsidiary terms (R,
S), since they are predicates. In predicatal argument, whether positive or negative, the issue is much
simpler. Since the minor premise and conclusion share one and the same subject (the subsidiary
term, S), we can quantify them at will; and say that whatever the quantity of the former, so will the
quantity of the latter be. With regard to the remaining terms (P, Q, R), they are all predicates, and
therefore not quantifiable at will. The major premise must, of course, in any case be general.
All the above is said with reference to copulative argument; similar guidelines are possible
for implicational argument. These are purely deductive issues; but it should be noted that in some
cases the a-fortiori argument as a whole is further complicated by a hidden argument by analogy
from one term or thesis to another, so that there are, in fact, more than four terms/theses. In such
situations, a separate inductive evaluation has to be made, before we can grant the a-fortiori
inference.
Another direction of growth for a-fortiori logic is consideration of modality. In the case of
copulative argument, premises of different types and categories of modality would need to be
examined; in the case of implicational argument, additionally, the different modes of implication
would have to be looked into. Here again, the issues involved are not peculiar to a-fortiori argument,
and we may with relative ease adapt to it findings from the fields concerned with categorical and
conditional propositions and their arguments. To avoid losing the reader in minutiae, we will not say
any more about such details in the present volume.

2.

Validation Procedures.

Once examined in their symbolic purity, the arguments listed above all appear as
intuitively obvious: they make sense. We can, additionally, easily convince ourselves of
their logical correctness, through a visual image as in Cartesian geometry. Represent R by
a line, and place points P and Q along it, P being further along the line than Q - all the
arguments follow by simple mathematics. However, the formal validation of valid moods,
and invalidation of invalids, are essential and will now be undertaken.
The propositions colloquially used as premises and conclusions of a-fortiori
arguments are entirely reducible to known forms, namely (where X, Y are any terms or
theses, as the case may be) to categoricals (X is Y, X is not Y), conditionals (if X then
Y, if X not-then Y) and comparatives (X > or = or < Y, or their negations; and X Y,
or its negation49). Consequently, a-fortiori arguments may be systematically explicated and
49

Note the following. For two magnitudes of something, like X and Y: if 'X is greater than Y',
then 'X implies, but is not implied by, Y'; if 'X equals Y', then 'X implies and is implied by Y'; if 'X is
smaller than Y', then 'X is implied by, but does not imply, Y'. This merely tells us, for example, that if
I have eight apples and you have five, then I have as many apples as you have (plus some): eight
implies five. For two classes of something, like X and Y: if 'X includes Y', then 'Y implies X' (notice
the reversal of order). Here again, an example: since 'fruits' includes 'apples', then whenever we
have apples it follows that we have fruits. Thus, we can elicit conditional propositions from
comparative relationships, whether strictly numerical or relating to inclusion (symbol, ).

42

JUDAIC LOGIC

validated by such reductions. We shall call the colloquial forms bulk forms, and the
simpler forms to which they may be reduced their pieces.
Let us first consider the major premises of a-fortiori arguments, whose forms we
will label commensurative, since they measure off the magnitudes of the major and minor
terms/theses (respectively P, Q) in the scale of the middle term/thesis (R).
a.

Subjectals:50
The bulk form: What is P is more R than what is Q (is R);
its pieces:
What is P, is to a certain degree R (say, Rp),
What is Q, is to a certain degree R (say, Rq),
and Rp is greater than Rq.

This concerns the superior form (briefly put, P is more R than Q). Similarly, for
the egalitarian (P is as R as Q) and inferior (P is less R than Q) forms51, except that for
them Rp=Rq and Rp<Rq, respectively. Thusly for copulatives; with regard to
implicationals (bulk form, P implies more/as much/less R than/as Q implies), the first two
pieces take the form: P implies Rp and Q implies Rq and the third piece remains the
same.
b.

Predicatals:
The bulk form: More R is required to be P than to be Q;
its pieces:
What is to a certain degree R (say, Rp), is P,
What is to a certain degree R (say, Rq), is Q,
and Rp is greater than Rq.

Again, this concerns the superior form. The corresponding egalitarian and inferior
forms differ only in that for them the third piece reads Rp=Rq and Rp<Rq, respectively.
Thusly for copulatives; with regard to implicationals (bulk form, More/as much/less R is
required to imply P than/as to imply Q) there is little difference, except that the first two
pieces take the form: Rp implies P and Rq implies Q.
52

Note that given the first two pieces, the superior, egalitarian and inferior bulk forms are
exhaustive alternatives, since the available third pieces are so; that is, if any two are false, the third
must be true. Note also the symmetries between subjectal and predicatal forms, after reduction to
50

Here, the subjects could easily be singular, but to display symmetries with predicatal forms
I will concentrate on classes.
51
Ignoring, in their case, our previous convention that P should represent the larger quantity
of R, and Q the lesser.
52
Ignoring, here again, our previous convention that P should represent the larger quantity of
R, and Q the lesser.

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

43

categorical/conditional and comparative propositions, despite their initial appearance of diversity;

their differences are in the relative positions of the terms.
It should be clear that the comparative propositions Rp>Rq, Rp=Rq, Rp<Rq, seem simple
enough when we deal with exact magnitudes. But in the broadest perspective, Rp and Rq may each
be an exact magnitude, or a single interval, ranging from an upper bound to a lower bound
(including the limits), or a disjunction of several intervals; this can complicate things considerably.
To keep things simple, and manageable by ordinary language, we will assume Rp and Rq to be, or
behave as, single points on the R continuum; when P or Q are classes rather than individuals, we
will just take it for granted that the propositions concerned intend that the stated relation through R
is generally true of all individual members referred to, one by one.
We need also emphasize, though we will avoid dealing with negative commensuratives in
the present work so as not to complicate matters unduly, that the strict contradictory of each bulk
form is an inclusive disjunction of its three pieces. For example, in the case of the copulative
superior subjectal form, it would be, briefly put: Some P are not R, and/or some Q are not R,
and/or Rp = or < Rq; similarly, mutatis mutandis, for the other forms (remembering, for
implicationals, that the negation of if... then... is if... not-then..., and not if... then-not... which is
merely contrary). We may continue to use the same labels (superior, egalitarian and inferior) for
negative propositions, even though in fact the meaning is reversed by negation, in order that the
intent of the original (positive) forms be kept in mind.
Thus viewed in pieces, the negations of major premises are clear enough; but we must
forewarn that the negative versions of the bulk forms are easily misinterpreted. For example: What
is P is not more R than what is Q might be taken to mean What is P is R as much as or less than
what is Q which is not equivalent to the strict contradictory, since it still maintains the conditional
pieces, while denying only the comparative piece. Other interpretations might be put forward. For
these reasons, negatives are best expressed by prefixing Not- to the whole positive proposition
concerned.
For logicians (as against grammarians) the precise interpretation of variant forms is not so
important; what matters is what conventions we need to establish, as close as possible to ordinary
language, to assure full formal treatment. We can do this without affecting the versatility of
language, because it is still possible to express alternative interpretations by means of the language
already accepted as formal.

Let us now consider the forms taken by minor premises and conclusions of afortiori arguments, which we will call suffective, since, broadly put, they express the
sufficiency (or its absence) of a term/thesis to satisfy some quantitative condition (the
middle term/thesis, R) to obtain some result53. In subjectal argument the minor premise and
conclusion have P or Q (the extreme terms) as subject and S (the subsidiary term) as
predicate, whereas in predicatal argument they have S as subject and P or Q as predicate,
but otherwise the form remains identical; for this reason, we may deal with all issues using
a single paradigm, having X and Y as subject and predicate respectively and R as middle
term.
a.

Positives:
The bulk form: X is R enough to be Y;

53

I introduced the word 'suffective' for lack of a better one; had I called such propositions
'sufficient' there would have been ambiguity and confusion when the sufficiency of the proposition
as such is discussed, in contrast to the sufficiency of one of its terms or theses.

44

JUDAIC LOGIC

its pieces:
Whatever is X, is to a certain degree R (say, Rx),
Whatever is to a certain degree R (say, Ry), is Y,
and Ry includes Rx.54
This concerns the copulative form; in the case of the implicational form X implies
R enough to imply Y, the first two pieces are X implies Rx and Ry implies Y, and the
third piece is the same.
In the broadest perspective, Ry may be an exact magnitude, or a single interval, ranging
from an upper bound to a lower bound (including the limits), or a disjunction of several intervals.
Similarly for Rx. Therefore, Rx is included in Ry, if and only if every value of Rx is a value of
Ry; if only some points overlap, or every value of Ry is a value of Rx but not conversely, then Rx
may not be said to be (wholly) included in Ry by our standards. However, very commonly, Ry
expresses the threshold of a continuous and open-ended range, as of which, and over and above
which or under and below which, the consequent Y occurs; while Rx is often a point (for an
individual X) or a limited range (for the class of X).

Since negative suffectives (unlike negative commensuratives) are used in the

primary forms of a-fortiori argument which we identified earlier, they must be given
attention too. The strict contradictory of the above conjuncts of two categoricals and one
comparative is an inclusive disjunction of their denials:
b.

Negatives:
The bulk form: X is not R enough to be Y;
its pieces:
Some things which are X are not a certain degree of R (say, not Rx), and/or
Some things which are to a certain degree R (say, Ry) are not Y, and/or
Ry does not include Rx.55

This concerns the copulative form; in the case of the implicational form X does not
imply R enough to imply Y, the pieces are X does not imply Rx and/or Ry does not
imply Y, and/or Ry does not include Rx.
Here (unlike in the case of commensuratives) we have chosen, by convention - because we
must have some practical verbal tool for lack of sufficiency, or insufficiency - to adopt a form with
the negation encrusted in it to signify the generic form of negation, namely Not-{X is R enough to
be Y}. But it must be kept in mind that this language, which we have frozen to one of its colloquial
senses for the purposes of a formal analysis, may in practice be interpreted variously, as X is not-R,
enough to be Y, or as X is R, but not-enough to be Y, or as X is not R-enough to be Y, for
54

i.e. Rx refers to one or more of the points signified by Ry. Note well the implications of
these propositions: What is X, is Y (first two pieces, by syllogism), and What is included in Rx, is
included in Ry (third piece, by eduction; we cannot rightly say 'What is Rx is Ry', because we are
not dealing with species/genera, but with ranges).
55
Note well that these three pieces do not imply (nor deny) that: What is X is Y; nor that: If
something is included in Rx, then it is included in Ry.

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

45

instances. I will not here say more about such variants, but only wish to give the reader an idea of
the complexities involved. In general, absolute precision can only be attained through the explicit
listing of the pieces intended, be they positive, negative or unsettled.

Having sufficiently analyzed the propositional forms involved for our purposes
here, we can now proceed with reductive work on a-fortiori argument proper. The positive
moods here considered are the paradigms of the form; the negative moods are really
derivative. The negative moods can always be derived from the positive moods by means
of a reductio ad absurdum, just like in the validation of syllogisms or apodoses. That is, we
can say: for if the proposed conclusion is denied, then (in conjunction with the same
major premise) the given minor premise would be contradicted.
Positive Subjectal (minor to major):
P is more R than Q (is R),
Q is R enough to be S;
so, P is R enough to be S.
Validation: translate the bulk forms into their pieces (here, expressed as hypotheticals, for
the sake of simplicity; these are, tacitly, of the extensional type, to be precise), and verify
that the conclusion is implicit in the premises by well-established (hypothetical)
arguments.
Major premise:

Minor premise:

(i) if P then Rp, and

(ii) if Q then Rq, and
(iii) Rp > Rq (implying: if Rp then Rq).
(iv) if Rs then S, and
(v) if Q then Rq, and
(vi) Rs includes Rq (implying: if Rq then Rs).

Paths of Inference:
we know directly, from (iv) that if Rs then S, and from (i) that if P then Rp; we still
need to show, indirectly that if Rp then Rs;
from (iii), we know that Rp implies Rq, if we understand that Rp>Rq signifies that
wherever Rp occurs, Rq is implied to have already occurred;
and from (vi) we know that Rq implies Rs;
whence, by syllogism, Rp implies Rs, or in other words, Rs includes Rp. This is true,
note well, granting that Rs refers to a continuously increasing open-ended range, for if
such a range (=>Rs) includes a number (Rq), it (=>Rs) necessarily includes all higher
numbers (like Rp).56

56

Note incidentally that pieces (ii) and (v), which are the same proposition, if Q then Rq, are
not used to draw the conclusion; they are technically redundant.

46

JUDAIC LOGIC

Conclusion:

therefore,
if Rs then S, and
if P then Rp, and
Rs includes Rp.
which is the desired result.
One can see, here, why, if the minor premise was with P rather than Q, no
conclusion would be drawable (i.e. major to minor is invalid). For then, from Rp implies
Rq and Rp implies Rs, there would be no guarantee that Rq implies Rs.
Positive predicatal (major to minor):
More R is required to be P than to be Q,
S is R enough to be P;
so, S is R enough to be Q.
Validation: translate the bulk forms into their pieces (here, again, expressed as
hypotheticals, for the sake of simplicity), and verify that the conclusion is implicit in the
premises by standard (hypothetical) arguments.
Major premise:

Minor premise:

(i) if Rp then P, and

(ii) if Rq then Q, and
(iii) Rp > Rq (implying: if Rp then Rq).
(iv) if Rp then P, and
(v) if S then Rs, and
(vi) Rp includes Rs (implying: if Rs then Rp).

Paths of Inference:
we know directly, from (ii) that if Rq then Q, and from (v) that if S then Rs; we still
need to show, indirectly that if Rs then Rq;
from (vi) we know that Rs implies Rp;
and from (iii), we know that Rp implies Rq;
whence, by syllogism, Rs implies Rq, or in other words, Rq includes Rs. This is true,
note well, granting that Rp refers to a continuously increasing open-ended range, for if
such a range (=>Rp) includes a number (Rs), then a longer range, i.e. one with a lower
minimum (like =>Rq), necessarily includes that number (Rs).57

57

Note incidentally, here, that pieces (i) and (iv), which are the same proposition, if Rp then
P, are not used to draw the conclusion.

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

47

Conclusion:

therefore,
if Rq then Q, and
if S then Rs, and
Rq includes Rs.
which is the desired result.
One can see, here, why, if the minor premise was with Q rather than P, no
conclusion would be drawable (i.e. minor to major is invalid). For then, from Rp implies
Rq and Rs implies Rq, there would be no guarantee that Rs implies Rp.
All the above is applicable equally to copulative and implicational a-fortiori
argument, and (as already stated) the negative moods are easily derived. These dissections
make evident the formal similarity and complementarity between subjectal and
predicatal arguments. Although on the surface their uniformity is not very obvious, deeper
down their essential symmetry becomes clear. And this serves to confirm the
exhaustiveness of our treatment. Also note: our ability to reduce a-fortiori argument to
chains (known as sorites) of already established and more fundamental arguments,
signifies that this branch of logic, though of value in itself, is derivative - a corollary which
does not call for new basic assumptions.
In view of the above (and certain additional details mentioned below) the formal
definition of a-fortiori argument we would propose is, briefly put: a form of inference
involving one commensurative and two suffective propositions, sharing four terms or
theses. Which two of the propositions are combined as premises, and what their specific
forms are (copulative or implicational), and the respective polarities, quantities and
modalities which yield valid moods, and the placement of the terms or theses, are all
questions automatically implied in that definitions breadth and the nature of the
propositions referred to in it.

3.

Additional Details.

a.
The arguments developed above can be validated only under the formal limitations
initially mentioned, namely that the ranges involved be specifically continuously
increasing and open-ended. A-fortiori reasoning remains simple and straightforward only
so long as we grant such specific conditions; but if we venture into more difficult
situations, with irregular ranges - such as a range with a lower limit or an upper limit or a
broken range - the arguments may no longer be automatically relied on and we would have
to develop moods with more complicated specifications to ensure inferences. For such
reasons, the arguments we have described must be viewed as operative under normal
conditions, namely the conditions we have already specified in the course of our study.
Effectively, these conditions are tacit additional premises.
A larger theory of a-fortiori would require much more sophisticated formal tools - a
much more symbolic and mathematical treatment, which is outside of the scope of the
present study. I do not want to go into overly picky detail; these are very academic issues.
However, we might here succinctly consider the language through which we colloquially
express such inhibitions to a-fortiori arguments, signifying thereby that the situation under
consideration is abnormal. Conjunctions like although... still... and the like, help to fulfill

48

JUDAIC LOGIC

this function. The following are examples of such statements; they are not arguments, note
well, but statements consisting of three sentences which signal an abnormal situation,
inhibiting a-fortiori inference from the first two sentences to a denial of the third.
Consider the following statements in subjectal form:
Though P is more R than Q and Q is R enough to be S,
still, P is too much R to be S.
This statement tells us that we cannot draw the normal a-fortiori conclusion from
the first two sentences, namely P is R enough to be S. Here, the condition R for S has an
upper limit, which Q fits into, yet P surpasses. Similar statements may appear in predicatal
form; for example:
Though more R is required to be P than to be Q, and S is R enough to be P;
still, S is too much R to be Q.
We should, however, note that there are similar statements, which do not inhibit a
normally valid mood, but positively join sentences which would normally not be
incompatible but merely unable to constitute a valid mood; for example:
While P is more R than Q and Q is too little R to be S;
yet, P is enough R to be S.
Finally, it should be clear that we can imagine more complicated cases, where the
relation of the range R to S is not continuous, having gaps and/or being wholly or partly
inverted. In such cases, the relations between P, Q, R, and S might be such that inferences
are not possible, or at least not without access to some contorted formulae. We do not have,
in ordinary language, stock phrases for such situations - in practice, if necessary, we switch
to mathematical instruments.
b.
We will call the form of argument so far considered58, primary a-fortiori. Such
arguments consist of a commensurative proposition as major premise and two suffective
propositions as minor premise and conclusion. These forms imply, as we shall now see, a
new class of arguments, a host of secondary a-fortiori, which consist of two suffectives as
premises and a commensurative as conclusion. Here is how they are derived (we must, in
this context, regard P and Q neutrally, without in advance saying which represents a larger
or smaller quantity of R):
Let us, to begin with, take the following subjectal (merging two valid moods into a
compound argument):

58

We have only thus far dealt with moods involving a positive major premise; those with a
negative major premise are discussed further down.

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

49

P is R more than or as much as Q (is R),

and Q is R enough to be S;
so, P is R enough to be S.
If we deny the conclusion and retain the minor premise, we obtain the denial of the
major premise. Thus, the following secondary mood is valid:
Q is R enough to be S,
and P is R, but not R enough to be S;
whence, P is less R than Q
(i.e. P is R neither more than nor as much as Q).
Note well that the conclusion here proposed is only valid if it is a given that P is
R. For, whereas the major premise guarantees that Q is R, if we express the minor
premise merely as P is not R enough to be S then that P is not R remains a possibility,
and the conclusion has to be a more indefinite negation of the major premise of the root
primary argument (i.e. Not-{P is R more than or as much as Q}), since we have
conceived of the form P is less R than Q as implying that P is R, rather than (as we might
have done) including P is not R in it as a zero limit (i.e. viewing NotR as equivalent to
R=0).
Now, let us transpose the premises, call P Q and Q P, and commute the
conclusion - and we obtain the following valid secondary mood:
Q is R, but not R enough to be S,
and P is R enough to be S;
whence, P is more R than Q
(i.e. P is R neither as much as nor less than Q).
Note, these are analogous to second figure syllogisms (except that the conclusion
would be P is not Q). Note also the need to be given that Q is R, as in the previous case.
Similarly, we can derive the predicatal moods by ad absurdum from the
corresponding primaries; note that here the structure resembles third figure syllogism:
Though some degree of R is required to be Q, S is not R enough to be Q,
and S is R enough to be P;
whence, Less R is required to be P than to be Q.
S is R enough to be Q,
and Though some degree of R is required to be P, S is not R enough to be P;
whence, More R is required to be P than to be Q.
Note well the need to specify in the premises that certain degrees of R are required
to be Q or P (as the case may be); otherwise, the conclusion, whose form we have
conceived as entailing that R both (as of Rp) implies P and (as of Rq) implies Q, would

50

JUDAIC LOGIC

have to be expressed as a broader negation, namely as Not-{less R is required to be P than

to be Q}. Here, as everywhere, the conclusion must be fully guaranteed by the premises.
Furthermore, strictly-speaking, these two predicatal conclusions are more general
than they ought to be. They are true at least for cases of S; assuming them to be true for
more would be an unwarranted generalization; one can conceive that in cases other than S,
the requirements of R, to be P or Q, are different. In primary a-fortiori, this issue does not
arise, insofar as the commensurative proposition is major premise and implicitly given as
general; but in secondary a-fortiori, i.e. here, the commensurative is a conclusion and must
be carefully evaluated.
Note that in all valid secondaries, the suffective premises are of unequal polarity this is what makes possible the drawing of a commensurative conclusion, which is never
egalitarian.
We may, furthermore, mention in passing the possibility of compound and variant
secondary moods, such as the subjectal: P is R more than enough to be S; and Q is R less than
enough to be S; therefore, P is more R than Q (similarly, with P just enough and Q less than
enough, or with P more than enough and Q just enough). Analogous predicatal: S is R less than
enough to be P; and S is R more than enough to be Q; therefore, at least for cases of S, more R is
required to be P than to be Q (similarly, with less than enough for P and just enough for Q, or with
just enough for P and more than enough for Q).

c.
We will now consider the possibility of primary a-fortiori arguments with major
premise negative. Such arguments may be shown, most readily, to be invalid, with
reference to the secondary arguments which would be derivable from them (by reduction
ad absurdum), were they to have been valid. Consider, for instance, the following
secondary argument (subjectal) with both premises positive:
Q is R enough to be S,
and P is R enough to be S;
whence, P is more R than Q.
The proposed conclusion obviously cannot follow from the premises, because the
premises are identical in form for the terms P and Q, and therefore there is nothing to
justify their distinction in the conclusion. This is equally true if we try P is less R than Q
as our conclusion, or the negation of either of these proposed conclusions. It is clear that
these alternatives are, though non-sequiturs, still possible outcomes; and therefore the
proposition P is as R as Q, or its negation, cannot be necessary conclusions, but likewise
are merely possible alternatives. In short, there is no conclusion of the proposed kind with
the given premises.
It follows that the primary arguments below, with a negative major premise
(commensurative) and negative conclusion (suffective), cannot be valid, either. For if they
were, then the secondary argument just considered would have to be valid, too. That is,
whether we try major to minor or minor to major form, whether with a superior or inferior
(shown in brackets) or egalitarian (similarly, though not shown below) major premise, all
such moods are invalid:

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

51

P is not more (or: not less) R than Q,

and P is R enough to be S;
whence, Q is not R enough to be S.
P is not more (or: not less) R than Q,
and Q is R enough to be S;
whence, P is not R enough to be S.
Similarly for the corresponding predicatal arguments: the secondary mood given
below is invalid:
S is R enough to be Q,
and S is R enough to be P;
whence, More R is required to be P than to be Q.
Are invalid, as well, any other secondary mood with the same positive premises,
and any other positive (or negative) conclusion of the same sort, such as Less R is
required to be P than to be Q. It follows that primary moods of the kind below are also
invalid:
More (or: Less) R is not required to be P than to be Q,
and S is R enough to be P;
whence, S is not R enough to be Q.
More (or: Less) R is not required to be P than to be Q,
and S is R enough to be Q;
whence, S is not R enough to be P.
And this invalidity, naturally, extends to negative egalitarian arguments.
All this is very understandable, because the negative commensurative propositions,
which are the major premises of these invalid primary arguments, are all relatively weak
bonds between their terms. The situation is similar to that of first-figure categorical
syllogism with a particular or possible major premise, or similarly hypothetical syllogism
with a lower-case major premise. One can further explore this issue by translating all the
propositions involved from their bulk forms into their pieces; negatives, remember, emerge
as disjunctions of hypotheticals and comparatives.
d.
We might also explore, in a thorough investigation of a-fortiori logic, other
irregular forms of the argument. I have done this work, but will not include the results here
so as not to overburden readers with relatively unimportant, often trivial, matters. I will just
mention certain items as briefly as possible, for the record:
(i)
Negative terms/theses, i.e. the appearance of NotP, NotQ, NotR and/or NotS,
instead of P, Q, R, S, respectively, in propositions used in a-fortiori, do not in themselves

52

JUDAIC LOGIC

affect the formal properties of the argument - provided they are repeated throughout it.
Difficulties arise when combinations of a term/thesis and its negation appear in the same
argument; in which case, the oppositional and eductive relations between the positive and
the negativized version of each proposition must be carefully studied (translating bulk
forms into their pieces), and in particular the compatibility of the premises assured. This is
not a problem particular to a-fortiori, but may be found in syllogistic logic. We might in
principle hope to find certain combinations of premises capable of yielding new valid
moods. However, I can report that I have not found any, because the conceivable premises
are always incompatible with each other. For example, given the premises:
P implies more R than Q implies (major),
and P implies NotR enough to imply S (minor),
we might at first sight think that, by educing from the original minor the following
proposition (our effective minor premise):
P does not imply R (i.e. NotNotR) enough to imply S,
we could make a negative antecedental a-fortiori inference, and conclude at least that:
Q does not imply R enough to imply S
(notice that the inference is major to minor, and not minor to major, due to the inherent
change of polarity); however, though the educed minor premise is compatible with the
given major, the original minor itself is not, so that the whole exercise is futile (I include it
here just for purposes of illustration). Similarly, for other atypical combinations of
premises.
It may be that someone discovers valid derivative moods of this sort that I have not
taken into consideration, but I doubt it. In any event, any encounter with cases of this kind
should be treated with great care: they are tricky. Also, keep in mind that, ontologically, R
and NotR, viewed as ranges, are very distinct, their values not having a general one-for-one
correspondence. The denial of any given value of R (say, R1) is an indefinite affirmation
(in disjunction) of all remaining values of R (R2, R3, etc.) and of all the values of NotR.
(ii)
Negative Relationships. The positive forms can also be negativized by negating
the relationship they involve, i.e. putting is-not in place of is (for copulatives), or does
not imply in place of implies (for implicationals). Some of the primary and secondary
valid moods, already dealt with above, involved negative relationships; so that we have
incidentally covered part of the ground. However, what interests us here is possible
divergences between copulative and implicational arguments, mainly due to the fact that,
whereas X is-not Y is equivalent with X is NotY (by obversion), X does-not-imply Y
is not interchangeable with X implies NotY (but merely subaltern to it).
Copulative arguments of the sort under consideration are easy to validate, since we
merely change predicate, positing a negative instead of negating a positive; for examples:

THE FORMALITIES OF A-FORTIORI LOGIC

53

P is more R than Q,
and Q is R enough not to be S (= enough to be NotS);
so, P is R enough not to be S (= enough to be NotS).
More R is required not to be P (= to be NotP) than not to be Q (= to be NotQ),
and S implies R enough not to be P (= to be NotP);
so, S implies R enough not to be Q (= to be NotQ).
In contrast, in the corresponding implicational arguments (shown below), try as we
might to apply the same analytical validation procedure as we used for other implicational
arguments (translating bulk forms into their pieces), the proposed inferences are found to
be illegitimate, because we cannot syllogistically derive the fourth piece needed to
construct the concluding bulk form from the given data59:
P implies more R than Q implies;
and Q implies R enough not to imply S;
so, P implies R enough not to imply S.
The major premise entails: P implies Rp; Q implies Rq; Rp implies Rq. The minor
premise entails: Q implies Rq; Rq implies Rs; Rs does-not-imply S; and Q does-not-imply
S. With regard to the proposed conclusion: we can infer from the given premises that P
implies Rp, Rp implies Rs, Rs does-not-imply S; but whether P implies or does-not-imply S
remains problematic, so that we cannot infer that P implies R enough not to imply S
(though note that if we were given as an additional premise that P does not imply S, we
could infer the desired bulk conclusion).

More R is required not to imply P than not to imply Q;

and S implies R enough not to imply P;
so, S implies R enough not to imply Q.
The major premise entails: Rp does-not-imply P and Not(Rp) implies P; Rq doesnot-imply Q and Not(Rq) implies Q; Rp implies Rq but Rq does not imply Rp. The minor
premise entails: S implies Rs; Rs implies Rp; Rp does-not-imply P; and S does-not-imply
P. With regard to the proposed conclusion: we can infer from the given premises that S
implies Rs, Rs implies Rq, Rq does-not-imply Q; but whether S implies or does-not-imply
Q remains problematic, so that we cannot infer that S implies R enough not to imply Q
(though note that if we were given as an additional premise that S does not imply Q, we
could infer the desired bulk conclusion).

What the above teaches us, effectively, is that we cannot treat the clause does not
imply Y as a conceptual unit, called Y1, say, and recast the form X implies R enough
not-to-imply Y into the form X implies R enough to imply Y1. Such a artifice, known to
logicians as permutation, is acceptable in some domains of logic, as in the case of
obversion mentioned above; but in other domains, it has been found unacceptable, as for
instances in modal logic (for the modality can) and in class logic (where it leads to the
59

Note that transposing the minor premise and conclusion would not improve matters; the
result would remain inconclusive.

54

JUDAIC LOGIC

Russell Paradox). There is therefore no automatic guarantee that permutation is acceptable,

in any given field, and we should not be surprised when, as in the present context, we
discover its invalidity.
To sum up the research: implicational a-fortiori, whether antecedental or
consequental, involving the negative relationships, were found invalid, using the above
mentioned and other methods. The above samples are positive; but it follows that negative
versions are equally invalid, since otherwise positive moods could be derived from them
by reductio ad absurdum. The same results can be obtained with inferior and egalitarian
major premises (even though in the latter case more data is implied). To be precise, I did
not prove the various irregular a-fortiori arguments to be invalid, but rather did not find any
proof that they are valid. It is not inconceivable that someone else finds conclusive paths of
inference, but in the absence of such proof of validity, we must consider the proposed
moods invalid.
These findings allow us to conclude that, although the analogy between regular
copulative and implicational arguments is very close, there are irregular cases where their
properties diverge, and copulatives are found valid while analogous implicationals are
found invalid. They are significant findings, in that:
they technically justify our initial separation of copulative and implicational a-fortiori
into two distinct classes;
they confirm, surprisingly, that our initial list of valid moods is pretty exhaustive
(discounting obvious derivatives and variant subsets);
and they confirm the general lesson of the science of logic that processes which prima
facie might seem feasible, often turn out, upon closer inspection, to be illegitimate.

QAL VACHOMER

55

4. QAL VACHOMER.

In the previous chapter, we considered the formal, deductive aspects of a-fortiori

argument. In the present chapter, we shall relate our findings to past Jewish studies in this
field, and also consider certain more inductive and epistemological issues.

1.

Background.

Jewish logic has long used and explicitly recognized a form of argument called qal
vachomer (meaning, lenient and stringent). According to Genesis Rabbah (92:7, Parashat
Miqets), an authoritative Midrashic work, there are ten samples of such of argument in the
Tanakh: of which four occur in the Torah (which dates from the 13th century BCE,
remember, according to Jewish tradition), and another six in the Nakh (which spreads over
the next eight or so centuries). Countless more exercises of qal vachomer reasoning appear
in the Talmud, usually signaled by use of the expression kol sheken. Hillel and Rabbi
Ishmael ben Elisha include this heading in their respective lists of hermeneutic principles,
and much has been written about it since then.
In English discourse, as we saw in the previous chapter, such arguments are called
a-fortiori (ratione, Latin; meaning, with stronger reason) and are usually signaled by use
of the expression all the more. The existence of a Latin, and then English, terminology
suggests that Christian scholars, too, eventually found such argument worthy of study
(influenced no doubt by the Rabbinical precedent)60. But what is rather interesting, is that
modern secular treatises on formal logic all but completely ignore it - which suggests that
no decisive progress was ever achieved in analyzing its precise morphology. Their
understanding of a-fortiori argument is still today very sketchy; they are far from the
formal clarity of syllogistic theory.
Witness for instance the example given in an otherwise quite decent Dictionary of
Philosophy: If all men are mortal, then a fortiori all Englishmen - who constitute a small
class of all men - must also be mortal. This is in fact not an example of a-fortiori
argument, but merely of syllogism61, showing that there is a misapprehension still today. Or
again, consider the following brief entry in the Encyclopedie Philosophique Universelle62:
60

There are already, in the Christian Bible, examples of a-fortiori, some of which are
analyzed by H. Maccoby in The Mythmaker: Paul and the Invention of Christianity. The author
mentions Paul's fondness for the argument, but shows him to have lacked knowledge of the 'dayo
principle' (see further on), concluding that his use of the form was more akin to the rhetoric of
Hellenistic Stoic preachers (pp. 64-67).
61
It could be said that there is an a-fortiori movement of thought inherent in syllogism,
inasmuch as we pass from a larger quantity (all) to a lesser (some). But in syllogism, the transition
is made possible by means of the relatively incidental extension of the middle term, whereas, as we
have seen, in a-fortiori proper, it is the range of values inherent to the middle term which make it
possible.
62
Vol. 1, p. 51, my translation.

56

JUDAIC LOGIC

A fortiori argument rests on the following schema: x is y, whereas relatively to the issue at
hand z is more than x, therefore a fortiori z is y. It is not a logically valid argument, since it
depends not on the form but on the content (Ed.). The skeptical evaluation made in this
case is clearly only due to their inability to apprehend the exact formalities; yet the key is
not far, concealed in the clause relatively to the issue at hand. Many dictionaries and
encyclopaedias do not even mention a-fortiori.63
Qal vachomer logic was admittedly a hard nut to crack; it took me two or three weeks to
break the code. The way I did it, was to painstakingly analyze a dozen concrete Biblical and
Talmudic examples, trying out a great many symbolic representations, until I discerned all the
factors involved in them. It was not clear, at first, whether all the arguments are structurally
identical, or whether there are different varieties. When a few of the forms became transparent, the
rest followed by the demands of symmetry. Validation procedures, formal limitations and
derivative arguments could then be analyzed with relatively little difficulty. Although this work
was largely independent and original, I am bound to recognize that it was preceded by
considerable contributions by past Jewish logicians, and in celebration of this fact, illustrations
given here will mainly be drawn from Judaic sources.

The formalities of a-fortiori logic are important, not only to people interested in
Talmudic logic, but to logicians in general; for the function of the discipline of logic is to
identify, study, and validate, all forms of human thought. And it should be evident with
little reflection that we commonly use reasoning of this kind in our thinking and
conversation; and indeed its essential message is well known and very important to modern
science.
What seems obvious at the outset, is that a-fortiori logic is in some way concerned
with the quantitative and not merely the qualitative description of phenomena. Aristotelian
syllogism deals with attributes of various kinds, without effective reference to their
measures or degrees; it serves to classify attributes in a hierarchy of species and genera,
but it does not place these attributes in any intrinsically numerical relationships. The only
quantity which concerns it, is the extrinsic count of the instances to which a given
relationship applies (which makes a proposition general, singular or particular).
This is very interesting, because - as is well known to students of the history of
science - modern science arose precisely through the growing awareness of quantitative
issues. Before the Renaissance, measurement played a relatively minimal role in the
physical sciences; things were observed (if at all) mainly with regard to their qualitative
similarities and differences. Things were, say, classed as hot or cold, light or heavy,
without much further precision. Modern science introduced physical instruments and
mathematical tools, which enabled a more fine-tuned pursuit of knowledge in the physical
realm.
A-fortiori argument may well constitute the formal bridge between these two
methodological approaches. Its existence in antiquity, certainly in Biblical and Talmudic
times, shows that quantitative analysis was not entirely absent from the thought processes
63

I must report that near the end of writing this book, I uncovered a much better definition of
a-fortiori argument by Lalande, in the Vocabulaire technique et critique de la philosophie. He writes
(my translation): "Inference from one quantity to another quantity of similar nature, larger or
smaller, and such that the first cannot be reached or passed without the second being reached
also." Note, however, that this definition fails to specify that the positive movement from large to
small is predicatal, while that from small to large is subjectal; and it ignores negative moods
altogether, as well as differences between copulative and implicational forms. Lalande adds that
the argument is of legal origin, quoting the Latin rule "Non debet, cui plus licet, quod minus est non
licere" (p. 32).

QAL VACHOMER

57

of the precursors of modern science. They may have been relatively inaccurate in their
measurements, their linguistic and logical equipment may have been inferior to that
provided by mathematical equations, but they surely had some knowledge of quantitative
issues.
In the way of a side note, I would like to here make some comments about the history of
logic. Historians of logic must in general distinguish between several aspects of the issue.
(a) The art or practice of logic: as an act of the human mind, an insight into the relations
between things or ideas, logic is part of the natural heritage of all human beings; it would be
impossible for us to perform most of our daily tasks or to make decisions without some exercise of
this conceptual power. I tend to believe that all forms of reasoning are natural; but it is not
inconceivable that anthropologists demonstrate that such and such a form was more commonly
practiced in one culture than any other64, or first appeared in a certain time and place, or was totally
absent in a certain civilization.
(b) The theoretical awareness and teaching of logic: at what point in history did human
beings become self-conscious in their use of reasoning, and began to at least orally pass on their
thoughts on the subject, is a moot question. Logic can be grasped and discussed in many ways; and
not only by the formal-symbolic method, and not only in writing. Also, the question can be posed
not only generally, but with regard to specific forms of argument. The question is by definition
hard for historians to answer, to the extent that they can only rely on documentary evidence in
forming judgments. But orally transmitted traditions or ancient legends may provide acceptable
clues.
(c) The written science of Logic, as we know it: the documentary evidence (his written
works, which are still almost totally extant) points to Aristotle (4th century BCE) as the first man
who thought to use symbols in place of terms, for the purpose of analyzing various eductive and
syllogistic arguments, involving the main forms of categorical proposition. Since then, the scope of
formal logic has of course greatly broadened, thanks in large measure to Aristotles admirable
example, and findings have been systematized in manifold ways.
Some historians of logic seem to equate the subject exclusively with its third, most formal
and literary, aspect (see, for instance, Windelband, or the Encyclopaedia Britannica article on the
subject). But, even with reference only to Greek logic, this is a very limiting approach. Much use
and discussion of logic preceded the Aristotelian breakthrough, according to the reports of later
writers (including Aristotle). Thus, the Zeno paradoxes were a clear-minded use of Paradoxical
logic (though not a theory concerning it). Or again, Socrates discussions (reported by his student
Plato) about the process of Definition may be classed as logic theorizing, though not of a formal
kind.
Note that granting a-fortiori argument to be a natural movement of thought for human
beings, and not a peculiarly Jewish phenomenon, it would not surprise me if documentary
evidence of its use were found in Greek literature (which dates from the 5th century BCE) or its
reported oral antecedents (since the 8th century); but, so far as I know, Greek logicians - including
Aristotle - never developed a formal and systematic study of it.

The dogma of the Jewish faith that the hermeneutic principles were part of the oral
traditions handed down to Moses at Sinai, together with the written Torah - is, in this
perspective, quite conceivable. We must keep in mind, first, that the Torah is a complex
document which could never be understood without the mental exercise of some logical
intuitions. Second, a people who over a thousand years before the Greeks had a written
language, could well also have conceived or been given a set of logical guidelines, such as
the hermeneutic principles. These were not, admittedly, logic theories as formal as
Aristotles; but they were still effective. They do not, it is true, appear to have been put in

64

I have an impression, for instance, that modern French discourse involves more use of afortiori than modern English discourse. To what extent that is true, and why it should be so, I cannot
venture to say.

58

JUDAIC LOGIC

writing until Talmudic times; but that does not definitely prove that they were not in use
and orally discussed long before.
With regard to the suggestion by some historians that the Rabbinic interest in logic
was a result of a Greek cultural influence - one could equally argue the reverse, that the
Greeks were awakened to the issues of logic by the Jews. The interactions of people
always involve some give and take of information and methods; the question is only who
gave what to whom and who got what from whom. The mere existence of a contact does
not in itself answer that specific question; it can only be answered with reference to a wider
context.65
A case in point, which serves to illustrate and prove our contention of the
independence of Judaic logic, is precisely the qal vachomer argument. The Torah provides
documentary evidence that this form of argument was at least used at the time it was
written, indeed two centuries earlier (when the story of Joseph and his brothers, which it
reports, took place). If we rely only on documentary evidence, the written report in
Talmudic literature, the conscious and explicit discussion of such form of argument must
be dated to at least the time of Hillel, and be regarded as a ground-breaking discovery. To
my knowledge, the present study is the first ever thorough analysis of qal vachomer
argument, using the Aristotelian method of symbolization of terms (or theses). The
identification of the varieties of the argument, and of the significant differences between
subjectal (or antecedental) and predicatal (or consequental) forms of it, seems also to be
novel.

2.

Samples in the Torah.

Our first job was to formalize a-fortiori arguments, to try and express them in
symbolic terms, so as to abstract from their specific contents what it is that makes them
seem logical to us. We needed to show that there are legitimate forms of such argument,
which are not mere flourishes of rhetoric designed to cunningly mislead, but whose
function is to guide the person(s) they are addressed to through genuinely inferential
thought processes. This we have done in the previous chapter.66
With regard to Hebrew terminology. The major, minor and middle terms are called: chomer
(stringent), qal (lenient), and, supposedly, emtsai (intermediate). The general word for premise is
nadon (that which legalizes; or melamed, that which teaches), and the word for conclusion is din
(the legalized; or lamed, the taught). I do not know what the accepted differentiating names of the
major and minor premises are in this language; I would suggest the major premise be called nadon
gadol (great), and the minor premise nadon katan (small). Note also the expressions michomer leqal
(from major to minor) and miqal lechomer (from minor to major).
65

It is interesting to note in any case, that Josephus Flavius claims that a disciple of Aristotle,
called Clearchus, wrote a book, which is no longer extant, in which he reports a meeting between
Aristotle and a Jew, during which presumably ideas were exchanged. What ideas were exchanged,
and whether this story is fact or legend, I do not know (see Bentwich).
66
I wish to make an acknowledgement at this stage. My special interest in a-fortiori argument
was aroused back in 1990 by a Vancouver, B.C., lawyer, Mr. Daniel Goldsmith. I had written an
article on "Jewish Logic" which was gradually published in a local Jewish paper called "World of
Chabad". One reader, Mr. Goldsmith, wrote to me suggesting that I pay special attention to afortiori argument, as a form of reasoning which was particularly Jewish and which had not so far
received much formal treatment. I resolved at the time to follow this suggestion, and the present
essays on the subject are the result.

QAL VACHOMER

59

I have noticed that the expression qal vachomer is sometimes used in a sense equivalent
to kol sheken (all the more), and intended to refer to the minor premise and conclusion,
respectively, whatever the value of the terms that these propositions involve (i.e. even if the former
concerns the major term, and the latter concerns the minor term), because the conclusion always
appears more forceful than the minor premise. This usage could be misleading, and is best
avoided.

Let us now, with reference to cogent examples, check and see how widely
applicable our theory of the qal vachomer argument is thus far, or whether perhaps there
are new lessons to be learnt. I will try and make the reasoning involved as transparent as
possible, step by step. The reader will see here the beauty and utility of the symbolic
method inaugurated by Aristotle.
Biblical a-fortiori arguments generally seem to consist of a minor premise and
conclusion; they are presented without a major premise. They are worded in typically
Jewish fashion, as a question: this and that, how much more so and so? The question
mark (which is of course absent in written Biblical Hebrew, though presumably expressed
in the tone of speech) here serves to signal that no other conclusion than the one suggested
could be drawn; the rhetorical question is really do you think that another conclusion
could be drawn? no!
Concerning the absence of a major premise, it is well known and accepted in logic
theorizing that arguments are in practice not always fully explicit (meforash, in Hebrew);
either one of the premises and/or the conclusion may be left tacit (satum, in Hebrew). This
was known to Aristotle, and did not prevent him from developing his theory of the
syllogism. We naturally tend to suppress parts of our discourse to avoid stating the
obvious or making tiresome repetitions; we consider that the context makes clear what we
intend. Such incomplete arguments, by the way, are known as enthymemes (the word is of
Greek origin).
The missing major premise is, in effect, latent in the given minor premise and
conclusion; for, granting that they are intended in the way of an argument, rather than
merely a statement of fact combined with an independent question, it is easy for any
reasonably intelligent person to construct the missing major premise, if only
subconsciously. If the middle term is already explicit in the original text, this process is
relatively simple. In some cases, however, no middle term is immediately apparent, and we
must provide one (however intangible) which verifies the argument.
In such case, we examine the given major and minor terms, and abstract from them
a concept, which seems to be their common factor. To constitute an appropriate middle
term, this underlying concept must be such that it provides a quantitative continuum along
which the major and minor terms may be placed. Effectively, we syllogistically substitute
two degrees of the postulated middle term, for the received extreme terms. Note that a
similar operation is sometimes required, to standardize a subsidiary term which is
somewhat disparate in the original minor premise and conclusion.
We are logically free to volunteer any credible middle term; in practice, we often
do not even bother to explicitly do so, but just take for granted that one exists. Of course,
this does not mean that the matter is entirely arbitrary. In some cases, there may in fact be
no appropriate middle term; in which case, the argument is simply fallacious (since it lacks
a major premise). But normally, no valid middle term is explicitly provided, on the
understanding that one is easy to find - there may indeed be many obvious alternatives to
choose from (and this is what gives the selection process a certain liberty).

60

JUDAIC LOGIC

(1) Let us begin our analysis with a Biblical sample of the simplest form of qal
vachomer, subjectal in structure and of positive polarity. It is the third occurrence of the
argument in the Chumash, or Pentateuch (Numbers, 12:14). God has just struck Miriam
with a sort of leprosy for speaking against her brother, Moses; the latter beseeches God to
heal her; and God answers:
If her father had but spit in her face, should she not hide in shame seven
days? let her be shut up without the camp seven days, and after that she shall be
brought in again.
If we reword the argument in standard form, and make explicit what seems to be
tacit, we obtain the following.
Major premise:
Divine disapproval (here expressed by the punishment of leprosy) (=P) is more
serious disapproval (=R) than paternal disapproval (signified by a spit in the
face) (=Q);
Minor premise:
if paternal disapproval (Q) is serious (R) enough to cause one to be in isolation
(hide) in shame for seven days (=S),
Conclusion:
then Divine disapproval (P) is serious (R) enough to cause one to be in isolation
(be shut up) in shame for seven days (=S).
Note that the middle term (seriousness of disapproval) was not explicit, but was
conceived as the common feature of the given minor term (fathers spitting in the face) and
major term (God afflicting with leprosy). Concerning the subsidiary term these
propositions have in common, note that it is not exactly identical in the two original
sentences; we made it uniform by replacing the differentia (hiding and being shut up) with
their commonalty (being in isolation). More will be said about the specification for seven
days in the subsidiary term (S), later.
(2) A good Biblical sample of negative subjectal qal vachomer is that in Exodus,
6:12 (it is the second in the Pentateuch). God tells Moses to go back to Pharaoh, and
demand the release of the children of Israel; Moses replies:
Behold, the children of Israel have not hearkened unto me; how then shall
Pharaoh hear me, who am of uncircumcised lips?
This argument may be may be construed to have run as follows:

QAL VACHOMER

61

Major premise:
The children of Israel (=P) fear God (=R) more than Pharaoh (=Q) does;
Minor premise:
yet, they (P) did not fear God (R) enough to hearken unto Moses (=S);
Conclusion:
all the more, Pharaoh (Q) will not fear God (R) enough to hear Moses (S).
Here again, we were only originally provided with a minor premise and conclusion;
but their structural significance (two subjects, a common predicate) and polarity were
immediately clear. The major premise, however, had to be constructed; we used a middle
term which seemed appropriate - fear of God.
Concerning our choice of middle term. The interjection by Moses, I am of
uncircumcised lips, which refers to his speech problem (he stuttered), does not seem to be
the intermediary we needed, for the simple reason that this quality does not differ in degree
in the two cases at hand (unless we consider that Moses expected to stutter more with
Pharaoh than he did with the children of Israel). Moses reference to a speech problem
seems to be incidental - a rather lame excuse, motivated by his characteristic humility since we know that his brother Aaron acted as his mouthpiece in such encounters.
In any case, note in passing that the implicit intent of Moses argument was to
dissuade God from sending him on a mission. Thus, an additional argument is involved
here, namely: since Pharaoh will not hear me, there is no utility in my going to him - but
this is not a qal vachomer.
(3) The first occurrence of qal vachomer in the Torah - and perhaps historically, in
any extant written document - is to be found in Genesis, 44:8 (it thus dates from the
Patriarchal period, note). It is a positive predicatal a-fortiori. Josephs brothers are accused
by his steward of stealing a silver goblet, and they retort:
Behold, the money, which we found in our sacks mouths, we brought back
unto thee out of the land of Canaan; how then should we steal out of thy lords
house silver or gold?
According to our theory, the argument ran as follows:
Major premise:
You will agree to the general principle that more honesty (=R) is required to
return found money (=P) than to refrain from stealing a silver goblet (=Q);
Minor premise:
and yet, we (=S) were honest (R) enough to return found money (P);
Conclusion:
therefore, you can be sure that we (S) were honest (R) enough to not-steal the silver
goblet (Q).
Here again, the middle term (honesty) was only implicit in the original text. The
major premise may be true because the amount of money involved was greater than the

62

JUDAIC LOGIC

value of the silver goblet, or because the money was found (and might therefore be kept on
the principle of finders keepers) whereas the goblet was stolen; or because the positive
act of returning something is superior to a mere restraint from stealing something.
(4) There is no example of negative predicatal a-fortiori in the Torah; but I will
recast the argument in Deuteronomy, 31:27, so as to illustrate this form. The original
argument is in fact positive predicatal in form, and it is the fourth and last example of qal
vachomer in the Pentateuch:
For I know thy rebellion, and thy stiff neck; behold, while I am yet alive
with you this day, ye have been rebellious against the Lord; and how much more
after my death?
We may reword it as follows, for our purpose:
Major premise:
More self-discipline (=R) is required to obey God in the absence of His emissary,
Moses (=P), than in his presence (=Q);
Minor premise:
the children of Israel (=S) were not sufficiently self-disciplined (R) to obey God
during Moses life (Q);
Conclusion:
therefore, they (S) would surely lack the necessary self-discipline (R) after his
death (P).
In this case, note, the middle term was effectively given in the text; selfdiscipline is merely the contrary of disobedience, which is implied by stiff neck and
rebelliousness. The constructed major premise is common sense.
We have thus illustrated all four moods of copulative qal vachomer argument, with
the four cases found in the Torah. For the record, I will now briefly classify the six cases
which according to the Midrash occur in the other books of the Bible. The reader should
look these up, and try and construct a detailed version of each argument, in the way of an
exercise. In every case, the major premise is tacit, and must be made up.
Samuel I, 23:3. This is a positive antecedental.
Jeremiah, 12:5. This is a positive antecedental (in fact, there are two arguments
with the same thrust, here).
Ezekiel, 15:5. This is a negative subjectal.
Proverbs, 11:31. This is a positive subjectal.
Esther, 9:12. This is a positive antecedental (if at all an a-fortiori, see discussion in
a later chapter).
The following is a quick and easy way to classify any Biblical example of qal
vachomer:

QAL VACHOMER

63

(a) What is the polarity of the given sentences? If they are positive, the argument is a modus
ponens; if negative, the argument is a modus tollens.
(b)Which of the sentences contains the major term, and which the minor term? If the minor
premise has the greater extreme and the conclusion has the lesser extreme, the argument
is a majori ad minus; in the reverse case, it is a minori ad majus.
(c) Now, combine the answers to the two previous questions: if the argument is positive and
minor to major, or negative and major to minor, it is subjectal or antecedental; if the
argument is positive and major to minor, or negative and minor to major, it is predicatal
or consequental.
(d)Lastly, decide by closer scrutiny, or trial and error, whether the argument is specifically
copulative or implicational. At this stage, one is already constructing a major premise.
I will here only give one example of the more complex, implicational form of qal
vachomer. It is described in the Encyclopaedia Judaica (8:367), as follows: It is stated in
Deuteronomy 21:23 that the corpse of a criminal executed by the court must not be left on
the gibbet overnight, which R. Meir takes to mean that God is distressed by the criminals
death. Hence, R. Meir argues:... (Sanh. 6:5).
If God is troubled at the shedding of the blood of the ungodly, how much
more at the blood of the righteous!
This is evidently a positive antecedental argument; verbalized more fully, it would
be stated as follows:
Major premise:
The shedding of the blood of the righteous (=P) is generally more troubling
(=R) than the shedding of the blood of the ungodly (=Q);
Minor premise:
if the blood of the ungodly is shed (P), then God is to some extent troubled (R),
specifically to the extent of enacting the law in Deuteronomy 21:23 (=S);
Conclusion:
therefore, if the blood of the righteous is shed (Q), then God is to some extent
troubled (R), to an extent not here specified but at least similar to the previous
(S).
The middle term (trouble) is in this case given in the original text. It is not
expressed identically in the major premise (troubling) and the other propositions
(troubled), but this is a turn of language which is easily remedied. The major premise could
have been expressed more elliptically as P implies, for any subject, that he will be
troubled, more than Q implies. Note the absence of an explicit consequent (subsidiary
thesis) in the conclusion, and our use of the clause to some extent; more will we said
about this later.
We will have occasion to discuss other examples of implicational qal vachomer,
drawn from the Gemara, in a later section.

64

JUDAIC LOGIC

3.

The Dayo Principle.

Rabbinical logicians raised an important question in relation to certain qal

vachomer arguments. For instance, in the argument about Miriam (which we analyzed in
the previous section), the minor premise posits a punishment of seven days for a relatively
lesser crime, and the conclusion likewise posits a punishment of seven days for a relatively
greater crime. Why only seven days? they wondered; should not the punishment be more,
proportionately to the severity of the crime? A reasonable question.
Since the sample argument is of Divine origin, some Rabbis postulated that it
suggests a universal logical rule, namely that the conclusion of a qal vachomer can never
go further than the minor premise, in the specification of the measure or degree of the
terms involved67. They called this, the dayo (sufficiency) principle (see Baba Qama, 2:5).
Other Rabbis, like R. Tarphon (in Baba Qama, 25a), did not concur, but regarded a
proportionate inference as permissible, at least in some cases. For my part, I would like to
say the following.
In the argument concerning Miriam, it can easily be countered that God sentenced
her in the conclusion to only seven days incarceration out of sheer mercy, though she
might have been strictly-speaking subject to infinitely more; and that in any case, the seven
days mentioned in the minor premise are not known through natural human insight, but
equally through Divine fiat. Thus, this example does not by itself resolve the issue
incontrovertibly.
If we compare, for instance, the argument made by R. Meir (also previously
mentioned), we see that going beyond the given quantity is intuitively quite reasonable.
Here, the minor premise is that God is (to some unspecified degree) troubled by the blood
of a criminal, but the intended conclusion is that He is troubled even more (to a greater,
though also unspecified degree) by the blood of an innocent. It has to be so, because the
concrete expression of the distress of God, in the first case, is that the court must remove
the criminals corpse before nightfall; the implied obligation, in the second case, cannot be
the same, since the court would not execute an innocent - it is rather a general prescription
that good people be treated still better than bad people.
Note, however, that in both our examples, the quantitative factor at issue may be
made to stand somewhat outside the regular terms of the a-fortiori argument as such. In
both cases, it is not the quantitative difference between the major and minor terms which is
at issue; that is already given (or taken for granted) in the major premise. What is at issue is
a quantitative evaluation of the remaining terms, the middle term and the subsidiary term,
as they appear in the minor premise and conclusion.
According to our theory, the outward uniformity of these terms in those
propositions is a formal feature of a-fortiori argument. But this feature does not in itself
exclude variety at a deeper level. Such specific differences are side-issues which the afortiori argument itself cannot prejudge. It takes supplementary propositions, in a separate
argument, which is not a-fortiori but purely mathematical in form, to make inferences
about the precise quantitative ramifications of the a-fortiori conclusion.
67

The principle is stated as din leba min hadin lihiot benadon. Note that J.E. translates this as
"the conclusion of an argument is satisfied when it is like the major premise"; but what they mean
by 'major premise' is what we here, more precisely, name 'minor premise'.

QAL VACHOMER

65

Thus, we may acknowledge the dayo principle as correct, provided it is understood

as being a minimal position. It does not insist on the quantitative equality of the subsidiary
or middle term (as the case may be) in the conclusion and minor premise, nor does it
interdict an inequality; it merely leaves the matter open for further research. A-fortiori
argument per se does not answer the question; it is from a formal point of view as
compatible with equality as with inequality. To answer the question, additional information
and other arguments must be sought. This is a reasonable solution.
Generally speaking, what is needed ideally is some mathematical formula which
captures the concomitant variation between a term external to the a-fortiori argument as
such (e.g. amount of punishment), and a term of variable value implicit in the a-fortiori
(e.g. severity of the sin). This formula then stands as the major premise in a distinct
argument, whose minor premise and conclusion contain the indefinite term at issue in the
a-fortiori argument (the middle or subsidiary term, as the case may be, to repeat) as their
common subject, and the said external terms values as their respective predicates.
There is no guarantee, note well, that the variation in the major premise will be an
arithmetical proportionality; it could just as well be an inverse proportionality or a much
more complex mathematical relationship, even one involving other variables. This is why
the a-fortiori argument as such cannot predict the result; its premises lack the information
required for a more refined conclusion. In some cases, the concomitance is simple and well
known, and for this reason seems to be an integral part of the a-fortiori; but this is an
illusion, the proof being that it does not always work, and in more complex cases a
separate judgment must be made.
Let us now analyze the issue underlying the dayo principle in more formal terms.
Consider a positive subjectal a-fortiori, whose subsidiary term (S) is a conjunction of two
factors, a constant (say, K) and a variable (say, V); and suppose V is a function (f) of the
middle term (R), i.e. that V = f(R) in mathematical language. On a superficial level, the
argument is simply as follows:
P is more R than Q,
and, Q is R enough to be S;
therefore, P is R enough to be S.
But R enough is a threshold, it is not a fixed quantity. In the case of the minor
premise, involving Q, the value of R is Rq, say; whereas, in the case of the conclusion,
involving P, the value of R is Rp, say; and we know from the major premise that Rp is
greater than Rq. Looking now at S, it is evident that if it consists only of a constant (K), it
will be identical in the minor premise and the conclusion. But, if S involves a variable V,
where V is a function of R, then S is not necessarily exactly the same in both propositions.
If V = f(R) represents a straightforward linear relationship, then Vp = f(Rp) will predictably
be proportionately greater than Vq = f(Rq); but if V = f(R) represents a more complicated
relationship, then Vp = f(Rp) may be more or less than Vq = f(Rq), or equal to it,
depending on the specifics of the formula.
Similar comments can be made with regard to the other valid moods of qal
vachomer. Note in any case that all this is well and good in principle; but in practice, we
may not be able to provide an appropriate and accurate mathematical equation. Some
phenomena are difficult and even impossible to measure; we may know that they somehow

66

JUDAIC LOGIC

vary, but we may have no instruments with which to determine the variations, precisely or
at all.
The physical sciences acquired enormous prestige, because they concentrated their efforts
on accessible phenomena (at least until the advent of sub-atomic physics, where according to the
Heisenberg Principle precise determinations become in principle impossible, in view of the
influence of available experimental means on the matter observed). Measurement is currently more
difficult in biological or psychological contexts. In the still more abstract realm of ethical and legal
discussions, not to mention purely spiritual issues, objective means are well-nigh non-existent, and
we have to refer to Biblical hints or intuitive conventions to establish scales.
Nevertheless, if that is a consolation, what is of interest to us here is the essential similarity
in principle - with regard to the formal logic involved - between all human endeavors in the pursuit
of knowledge. The proverbial superiority of modern physical sciences, in view of their powers of
measurement, is relative and incidental. Their epistemological tools are no different than those of
any other discipline. Other disciplines may be equally scientific, in the root sense of the word,
which refers to knowledge acquired through the strictest methodology; they are not totally
incapacitated by the strictures which their peculiar subject-matter imposes on them.
The subject-matter of physics is relatively easy of access, so that it can measure more and
achieve greater precision; other domains are progressively more difficult to deal with, and so the
(in the widest sense) scientific endeavors which concern them are bound to be accordingly limited.
But the requirements of objectivity of attitude, open-mindedness to new data, carefulness in
reasoning, and honesty, are the same throughout; and this is what counts in evaluating any body of
knowledge.

4.

Objections!

The formalization of a-fortiori argument has been found difficult by past logicians
for various reasons. (a) The complexity and variety of the propositional forms involved. (b)
There are many varieties of the argument. (c) Known samples are usually incompletely
formulated. (d) Known samples often intertwine a mixture of purely a-fortiori and other
forms of deductive inference. (e) The deductive and inductive issues were not adequately
separated. We will clarify these matters in the present section.
Thus far, our goal has been to discover the essential form(s) of a-fortiori argument.
We found the various kinds of premises and conclusion which ideally constitute such
movements of thought. As in all formal logic, the conclusion follows from the premises; if
the premises are true, then the conclusion is true. The presentation of a form of argument
as valid does not in itself guarantee the truth of the premises. If any or all of the premises
are not true, then the conclusion does not follow; the conclusion may happen to be false
too, or it may be true for other reasons, but it is in any case a non sequitur.
This understanding of the relationship of premises and conclusion is not a special
dispensation granted to our theory of a-fortiori, but applies equally well to all inference, be
it eductive, syllogistic or otherwise deductive, or even inductive. In all cases, the question
arises: how are the premises themselves known? And the answer is always: by any of the
means legitimatized by the science of logic. A premise may be derived from experience by
inductive arguments of various kinds, or be a logical axiom in the sense that their
contradictories are self-denying, or even be Divinely revealed; or it may be deductively
inferred in one way or another from such relatively primary propositions (whether they are
a posteriori or a priori, to use the language of philosophers).
This issue has been acknowledged in the literature on Talmudic logic, through the
doctrine of objection (in Hebrew, teshuvah; in Aramaic, pirka). A given a-fortiori

QAL VACHOMER

67

argument, indeed any argument, may be criticized on formal grounds, if it is shown not to
constitute a valid mood of reasoning. But it may also be objected to on material grounds,
by demonstrating one or both of its premises is/are wholly or partly false, or at least open
to serious doubt. The deduction as such may be valid, but its inductive backing (in the
widest sense) may be open to doubt.
Consider for examples the Biblical samples of qal vachomer we have used as our
illustrations.
In the argument concerning Miriam, we were given two sentences, neither of which
is in itself obvious. Assuming that the Biblical verse as a whole is indeed intended as an
argument, and not as two unrelated assertions, we may regard the first as a Divinely
guaranteed truth and use it as our minor premise, but the second must somehow emerge as
a conclusion. However, the major premise, which we ourselves construct to complete the
argument, is in principle not indubitable. The one we postulated happens to seem
reasonable (i.e. appears to be consistent with the rest of our knowledge); but it is
conceivable that some objection could eventually be raised concerning it (say, that God
attaches more importance to sins against parents than to sins against Himself).
In the next argument, by Moses, the major and minor premises are both known by
empirical means. The former is a generalization, based on the past behavior patterns of the
children of Israel and Pharaoh; and the latter is a statement concerning more recent events.
These propositions happen to be true, so that the conclusion is justified, but they might
conceivably have been factually inaccurate, in which case an objection could have been
raised.
The argument made by Josephs brothers is much more open to debate. The
steward might have argued that they returned the money they found out of some motive(s)
other than the sheer compulsion of their honest natures: (a) to liberate their brother Simeon,
which had been kept hostage (see Genesis, 42:24 and 43:23); or (b) because the famine in
Canaan forced them to come back to Egypt (see 43:1); or even (c) because they feared
eventual pursuit and retaliation; or simply (d) because the silver cup, being a tool for
divining purposes, had more value than the sacks full of money, and thus tempted them to
take more risks.
We accept the brothers argument, because we believe that their honesty proceeded
from their exceptional fear of God (irrespective of any more down to earth concerns), but it
is not unassailable. Clearly, the empirical foundations of the major premise are rather
complex, and an additional complication is the rather abstract psycho-ethical concept
(namely, honesty) it involves. With regard to the minor premise, about the restitution of
money - that was a straightforward observation of a singular physical event. In any case,
this example well illustrates the inductive issues which may underlie an a-fortiori
argument.
In the case of the argument by Moses concerning the stiff-neck and rebellion of the
children of Israel, the major premise might be construed as a generalization from common
experience. We know that children are less well behaved in the presence of their parents or
school-teachers than in their absence, and similarly that people follow their leaders more
strictly when their leaders backs are not turned - and on this basis, the postulated major
premise seems reasonable. But it might well be argued that though this is more often than
not true, it is not always true (the children of Israel are indeed requested by Moses to make
it untrue!) - and thus put the whole argument in doubt, or at least make it probable rather
than necessary. As for the minor premise, it could be viewed as an overly severe evaluation
of the behavior of the children of Israel - there is a subjective aspect to it.

68

JUDAIC LOGIC

Similar comments can be made with respect to Rabbi Meirs argument,

demonstrating its possible weaknesses. We need not belabor the matter further. All this
goes to prove, not as some logicians have claimed that a-fortiori argument is in principle
without formal validity, but that it is often difficult to find solid material grounds for its
effective exercise. It is thus understandable why Rabbinical legislators have usually
regarded qal vachomer arguments as insufficient in themselves to justify a law, unless
supported by the authority of tradition.
I would like now, in the way of a final illustration and test of our theory, to analyze
an a-fortiori argument given in the Encyclopaedia Judaica68. It is drawn from the Talmud
(Chulin 24a), which bases the argument on certain passages of the Torah (Leviticus, 21:1621; and Numbers, 8:24-25). The argument seems complicated, but it is simply, as we shall
see, positive antecedental in form; I quote:
If priests who are not disqualified for service in the Temple by age, are
disqualified by bodily blemishes; then Levites, who are disqualified by age, should
certainly be disqualified by bodily blemishes.
The clue to a solution is in the verb involved; we notice that the central issue under
discussion is the threshold of disqualification from Temple service. Our middle term (R),
then, must be a concept with many different degrees (say, unfitness), such that there is a
cut-off point along it, which signifies the occurrence of disqualification; this is effectively
the subsidiary term (S), which will be the consequent of our minor premise and conclusion.
Major premise:
Having bodily blemishes (=P) implies more unfitness for Temple service (=R)
than being past a certain age (=Q);
Minor premise:
if a Levite reaches that age (Q), he is sufficiently unfit (R) that he is disqualified
(=S);
Conclusion:
therefore, all the more, if a Levite has bodily blemishes (P), he is sufficiently unfit
(R) to be disqualified (S).
Note that the antecedents of the minor premise and conclusion, respectively,
contain the minor and major terms, which cause the requisite degree of unfitness for
disqualification. We see that this argument is identical in form to that of R. Meir, which we
previously analyzed. What distinguishes it, however, is the way we construct the major
premise. In the R. Meir argument, no explicit source is given for the major premise; but in
the present example, we do have some additional data with which to justify our major
premise.
The a-fortiori argument as such makes no mention of the priests; it only concerns
the Levites. The logical utility of the statements in the original text about priests, is to serve
as a springboard from which we can leap to the needed major premise. The two
propositions priests are not disqualified by old age and priests are disqualified by bodily
68

8:367.

QAL VACHOMER

69

blemishes, provide us with the Scriptural grounds for an inductive generalization to the
proposition Bodily blemishes more easily disqualify than old age, which in turn becomes
our major premise.
An argument by analogy is involved, when we move from the case of priests, to all
cases (all Temple servers), including eventually the case of Levites. This argument is not
formally unassailable; the Torah might well have made a fine distinction, and allowed
Levites with bodily blemishes to serve in the Temple (in view of their distinctive functions
there). Two subjects can always have opposite predicates, without doing violence to logic.
However, since the Torah does not in fact make such a distinction, we may reasonably
generalize as the Rabbis did.
Thus, to summarize, not all of the Talmudic passage under discussion constituted
an a-fortiori argument. The first section, concerning priests, was not an inherent part of the
qal vachomer inference per se, but served as the premise of a preliminary inductive
argument (namely, a generalization) which established the major premise of the qal
vachomer as such. Only the second section, about Levites, belongs within the qal
vachomer process proper.69
In this context, I would like to criticize and reject the theory of qal vachomer arguments
proposed by the author, L. Jacobs (presumably), of the aforementioned Encyclopaedia Judaica
article. He rightly (together with Kunst) dismisses the claim by some researchers (notably, A.
Schwartz), that they may be identified with syllogistic reasoning; for the latter serve only the
eventual purposes of subsumption of individuals in classes, or classes in classes-of-classes.
However, Jacobs own analysis of the topic is also faulty.
Jacobs effort at formalization is not only an inadequate oversimplification, but also
contrary to reason. He claims that the (above mentioned) argument of R. Meir (which he labels
simple) can be formalized as if A has x, then certainly B has x; but this explains nothing, it
does not tell us why the inference is at all possible, because it is too vague. Similarly, he
formalizes the argument about the priests and Levites (which he contrasts as complex) as
follows: if A, which lacks y, has x, then B, which has y, certainly has x; but this is absurd! The
arrow is pointing in opposite directions in the antecedents (in one case against y, in the other case
towards y), and then it flips over and points in the same direction in the consequents (toward x)!

69

We can now mention the Rabbinical theory that the dayo principle has subdivisions, and
may be applied either 'to the lenient case' or 'to the strict case'. This idea was based on a limited
comprehension of a-fortiori argument, due precisely to the Rabbis' failure to distinguish between
the deductive process itself and its inductive precedents. An example provided by Bergman (p.
128) is the following "If shen and regel, which cause no liability when committed on public property,
nevertheless give rise to full liability if committed on the injured party's property, then keren, for
which there is half liability if it occurred on public property, certainly should cause full liability if
committed on the property of the injured party" (B.Q., 25a): on the basis of the dayo principle, one
cannot so argue, he says, but must conclude on half liability, for keren on private property, i.e. no
more than keren invokes on public property. I agree with his conclusion, but for other reasons: we
have 3 givens: (1) relatively unintentional damages by animals (shen and regel) in the public
domain imply owner's liability to pay none of the damages; whereas, (2) the same on private
property imply his liability to pay all of the damages; and (3) relatively intentional damages by
animals (keren) in the public domain imply liability to pay half of the damages. The first two givens
serve to induce the major premise of our actual a-fortiori: make the comparison 'for unintentional
acts, acts committed on private property imply more liability than those committed in the public
domain', then generalize to 'for all acts, the same', then educe the new particular 'for intentional
acts, the same'. This result, combined with the third given, which serves as minor premise, form the
a-fortiori argument proper, whose conclusion is 'intentional acts on private property imply liability to
pay half the damages'. The application of the dayo principle involved in this last stage (subsidiary
term: 'having to pay half damages') is perfectly regular, and requires no special new division, note
well.

70

JUDAIC LOGIC
Clearly, more precise formal tools, more careful logic and more perspicacious linguistic
analyses, were needed to solve the mystery of qal vachomer. I believe that the theory I have
proposed offers a definitive solution.

5.

Rabbinic Formulations.

An important test of our general forms of qal vachomer, is their applicability to

the formulation of a-fortiori argument traditionally made in the Rabbinic literature.
Some logicians, like R. Luzatto (also known as the Ramchal), have a pretty large concept
of qal vachomer, which includes any kind of scale of comparison as the effective middle
term70. However, most authors seem to limit their concept to one specific kind of middle
term, namely the concept of legal restriction. Thus, for instance, R. Chavel71 describes the
argument as follows:
A form of reasoning by which a certain stricture applying to a minor matter
is established as applying all the more to a major matter. Conversely, if a certain
leniency applies to a major matter, it must apply all the more to the minor matter.
R. Feigenbaums description72 is even clearer, as the following quotation shows.
(Note that we are effectively dealing with a scale of modality, and with nesting of
modalities within modalities.)
a) Any stringent ruling with regard to the lenient issue must be true of the stringent
issue as well;
b) any lenient ruling regarding the stringent issue must be true with regard to the
lenient matter as well.
These special formulations are easily assimilated by our general theory of qal
vachomer argument, as follows:
a) P generally implies more stringency for the practitioner (=R) than Q implies,
nonetheless, Q is stringent (R) enough to imply the practitioner subject to a certain
restriction (or not-subject to a certain liberty) (=S),
all the more, P is stringent (R) enough for this same ruling to apply (S).

70

We might also mention a description proposed by Maccoby, "if something is known about
one thing which has a certain quality in relatively 'light' form, then it must be true 'all the more so' of
some other thing that has the same quality in a relatively 'heavy' form". This description is
incomplete in various ways, but at least does not limit itself to legal issues.
71
P. 27, n. 106.
72
P. 88.

QAL VACHOMER

71

b) P generally implies more stringency for the practitioner (=R) than Q implies,
nonetheless, P is not stringent (R) enough to imply the practitioner subject to a certain
restriction (or not-subject to a certain liberty) (=S),
all the more, Q is not stringent (R) enough for this same ruling to apply (S).
Note that both arguments are antecedental in form, and one is expressed positively
and the other negatively. The extreme theses (P, Q) are legal rulings; their middle thesis
(R) is the magnitude of burden, let us say73, they impose on a practitioner, and their
subsidiary thesis (S) is a third legal clause, itself evaluated as burdensome to a certain
degree. If the smaller burden (Rq) includes the subsidiary (Rs), then so does the larger
(Rp); and by contraposition, if the greater burden excludes the subsidiary, then so does the
lesser. Note, for the sake of symmetry, that we could conceive of similar formulas in which
the middle thesis (R) is leniency for the practitioner, provided the subsidiary thesis (S)
likewise changes in polarity, becoming the practitioner is subject to a certain liberty (or
not-subject to a certain restriction).
Such formulas may be objected to, firstly, on the ground of their limited concept:
they are conceived specifically in relation to the severity or laxity of ethical propositions
(legal rulings, in Rabbinical terminology74), whereas a-fortiori is a much wider process,
applicable to non-ethical propositions. Secondly, and more radically, these formulas
involve a middle thesis (burdensomeness, say) too vague and diffuse to enable a sure
conclusion: the major premise must be general, and such generality can only be known by
generalization or enumeration. If by generalization, the conclusion is at best probable; if by
enumeration, we are begging the question (i.e. we had to know the desired conclusion
beforehand).
For a law P may be burdensome in many respects and another law Q may be
burdensome in many respects, and P may well be burdensome in numerically more
respects than Q is burdensome; even so, the burdens of P may or may not include all the
burdens of Q, and indeed the burdens of P and Q may not overlap at all! In other words, in
principle (i.e. formally), the inference is not necessary without further specifications which
somehow guarantee that the burdens of P include all those of Q. That is, the laws under
discussion here, P and Q, have certain implicit material relations which must be brought
out into the open.
Thus the above mentioned Rabbinical formulations of a-fortiori argument, are not
only limited in scope (to ethical theses), but they cannot be considered as having formal
73

The indefinition and apparent subjectivity of the concepts of 'lenient' and 'stringent' (or
synonyms to the same effect) is important to note. They seem to refer to subjective/emotional
reactions to laws; i.e. whether a law is felt by people as a further hardship or as a release from
duty. If we suppose more formal definitions (see ch. 13), and regard every law - positive or
negative, i.e. an imperative or a prohibition - as "stringent", and every absence of law - i.e. ethical
contingency, permission and exemption - as a "leniency", then we must be very careful in this
context, as modal logic is involved, which has special syllogistic behaviour-patterns (notably, one
cannot draw a conclusion from a first-figure major premise which is not positively or negatively
necessary). This matter requires further study, in relation to Rabbinical formulations of a-fortiori
argument concerning "leniency".
74
Perhaps a word should be said about this difference in terminology. In philosophy, a
distinction is made between ethical and legal propositions as follows. Ethics is the broader concept,
which includes law. Law refers specifically to ethical propositions enforced by society (or the ruling
segment thereof); some ethical propositions are not considered so enforceable (though supposedly
inferred from nature). The Rabbis are clearly aware of this functional distinction, but tend to regard
all ethical propositions as "laws", because they view them as ultimately enforced by God if not by
society.

72

JUDAIC LOGIC

validity (i.e. invariably guarantee inference). They are at best broad guidelines, which may
occasionally be found inapplicable. Indeed, the Rabbis were aware of this problem, and did
occasionally object to attempted such inferences by one of their colleagues, and claim that
a stringency of Q did not necessarily apply to P or a leniency of P did not necessarily apply
to Q. Effectively, they invalidated the major premise, denying it to be general and making
it at best probable, by apposition of an acknowledged exception; and by this means, they
inhibited application of qal vachomer reasoning to S, the new case under consideration.

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

73

5. REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI.

This chapter should be of interest to Bible scholars and students, rather than to
secular logicians.

1.

Problems Encountered.

We stated earlier that, according to Genesis Rabbah, there are ten cases of afortiori argument in the Bible: four of them in the Books of Moses and the other six in
various other locations. This Midrashic work is traditionally said to have been compiled
either by Rabbi Oshia Rabba (a late Tana) or by Rabba bar Nachmani (a third generation
Amora); in any case, circa 3rd century CE75.
We have already in earlier chapters analyzed in considerable detail the four cases of
a-fortiori spotted in the Chumash by this Midrash, namely: Gen. 44:8, Exod. 6:12, Num.
12:14, and Deut. 31:27. The other six cases mentioned by it are: 1-Sam. 23:3, Jer. 12:5 (2
cases), Ezek. 15:5, Prov. 11:31, and Esth. 9:12. Presumably, this is intended to be a full
enumeration; i.e. it is not just a list of ten cases among others, but an exhaustive list.
At first, I took this authoritative tradition that there are just these 10 qal vachomer
arguments in the Bible for granted. But I must admit that over time, to my surprise (not to
say, consternation, for I do not want to excite the ire of my religions orthodoxy), I have
been forced to revise that article of faith considerably. Closer scrutiny of the evidence
makes indubitably clear that there are more likely at least about 30 (thirty) cases in the
Bible, and furthermore that one of the cases listed by the Midrash is open to doubt as a
genuine case.
My first inkling that something was amiss was the quite fortuitous discovery of an
a-fortiori argument in Job 4:17-19, while leafing through Maimonides Guide76. I naturally
assumed that the list given in the Encyclopaedia Judaica77, which was my initial source,
was erroneous by accident (this is not as far-fetched as it may sound: I once spotted a
confusion between 2nd and 3rd figure hypothetical syllogism in the 1967 Encyclopedia of
Philosophy78); and that the two cases counted under Jeremiah were really one, while the
said argument in Job was perhaps merely omitted by the printers. I resolved to look into the
original source, and confirm this assumption (I of course did look into G.R. eventually, but
found the E.J. list correct).
Meanwhile, having had my consciousness of the issue of logical arguments in the
Bible raised by my preceding research, I happened on a Shabbat, while studying the
75

If it matters, the second tradition is upheld in the Sefer Hadorot, the first in the more recent
Tsemach David.

76

P. 301.

77

Vol. 8, p. 367.

78

Vol. 4, p. 518.

74

JUDAIC LOGIC

haftarah of the week (Tazriaa), to notice yet another unmentioned case, namely 2-Kings
5:13. Again, my immediate reaction was defensive, conservative; I did not want to belie
the tradition. I had early on in my formal researches looked with askance on the argument
in Esther (we will return to this detail further on); so I thought, well, if we ignore this
doubtful case, we still have a total of only ten a-fortiori arguments.
At about that time, as I described to people some of the difficulties I was coming
across in my Biblical research, someone mentioned that there may be a case of qal
vachomer in Daniel; but I could not find it offhand (as we shall see, I did find a probable
case eventually).
Also, leafing through an ArtScrolls commentary on Genesis, I noted to my relief
their comment that some editions of the Midrash include Gen. 4:24 instead of Ezek. 15:5
in the list of ten. The Rashi commentary on this alternative sample, I then found (see
Soncino Chumash79), is clearly formulated as a qal vachomer. (Assumably, then, Rashi
favoured the special editions of the Midrash, since in his commentary to Gen. 44:8 he does
not dispute the claim that there are only ten qal vachomer cases in the Torah [in the larger
sense of the term, meaning Tanakh] - this is said in passing).
Thus, in fact, in practice, at least eleven sentences in the Bible are recognized as afortiori by Rabbinical authorities taken collectively, and not just ten (though some say
these ten and some say those ten, and they all agree on nine cases). How they reconcile this
with the Midrash claim, which they apparently all continue to uphold undaunted, is beyond
me: a contradiction is a contradiction. I do not know whether any among them have noted
and acknowledged yet other cases of a-fortiori in the Tanakh, and if so how they dealt with
the issues implied; but the issues are implied even with a joint list of just eleven cases. The
simplest solution, it seems to me, would be to regard the Midrash claim as not intended as
exhaustive; then there is no problem of doubting the Midrashs infallibility.

2.

The Solution Found.

I tell this story in detail to demonstrate my goodwill, my reluctance to contradict

authorities (but also my determination to find the factual truth). By now, it had become
obvious that the common tradition on this topic was surely factually inaccurate, and that a
systematic reevaluation was called for. But, how, other than by rereading the whole
Tanakh carefully with this issue in mind? It was at this point that I had a very felicitous
insight...
The a-fortiori arguments in the Tanakh are noticeably not signaled by
expressions like kol sheken or qal vachomer!
These expressions are utilized in Talmudic (Mishnah and Gemara) and postTalmudic (Rabbinic) arguments and exposs, but not so far as I know in the Bible itself. If
we actually look at the 10 cases mentioned by the (usual) Midrash, we find exclusively the
following language:

79

P. 24.

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

Genesis:
Exodus:
Numbers:
Deuteronomy:
Samuel:
Jeremiah:
Ezekiel:
Proverbs:
Esther:

75

Hen (behold)... ve ekh (how then)...

Hen (behold)... ve ekh (how then)...
... halo (is it not then that)...
Hen (behold)... ve af ki (then also when)...
Hine (behold)... ve af ki (then also if)...
Ki (if)... ve ekh (how then)...; u (and if)... ve ekh (how then)...
Hine (behold)... af ki (then when)...
Hen (behold)... af ki (also thus)...
... meh (what)...

I saw almost at once that these various phraseologies might be viewed as signals of
an intention to formulate an a-fortiori argument. After a while, I realized that these
sentences have, indeed were bound to have, conditional form, with an antecedent clause (a
minor premise), signaled by an if operator (one of the particles hen/hine, ki, ve/u), and a
consequent clause (a conclusion), signaled by a then operator (one of the expressions ve
ekh, ve af ki, af ki, halo, and eventually meh). These key words or phrases were limited in
number, some half a dozen, and so could with relative ease be used in a search for other
cases, if any, in a Concordance of the Bible (which is effectively a word index). Of course,
there might be other significant expressions, besides those, but I left the question open; at
least, this was a starting-point.
The following stage was painstaking research: each reference to a keyword in the
Concordance was looked up in the Bible, to see whether or not it signaled an a-fortiori
argument. In truth, I did not research all the keywords: I looked up all occurrences of ekh,
ve-ekh, af, af-ki, ve-af, ve-af-ki, hen, ve-hen, halo, va-halo; but I did not have the
patience to also research the words hine, ki. It was quickly evident that not all occurrences
of the keywords signaled a qal vachomer (only about 6 percent did so); on the other hand, I
found by this method many new cases of the argument, i.e. cases not mentioned in the
Midrash (about twenty). In all, I looked up some 500 references in the Bible; by that time
my point was proven, since I had about three times the number of a-fortiori arguments I
started with, and it did not seem important to pursue the matter further and attempt to be
exhaustive.
As already said, I was not immediately conscious of the logical role played by the
key words/phrases. At first, my approach was pragmatically philological; but once I
grasped that what I had to look for were if/then operators, it became obvious that a more
detailed linguistic analysis was called for: this laborious research is presented in the next
chapter. In this context, I gradually understood the following (which ex post facto perhaps
seems obvious, but was not immediately evident). Whereas in modern Hebrew, im/az are
the closest and most commonly used equivalents of if/then, in Biblical Hebrew the
language is more varied:
a.
There are various alternative expressions for if, such as hen/hine, reu, ki,
ve/u, im, be; all these announce an antecedent: behold, see, if, when, because, in, etc. The
prefix vav (and) fulfills this function, like the other words, by presenting a context, in
which certain later mentioned events occur.
b.
There are various alternative expressions for then, such as af, ve, ki, im;
all these announce a consequent: all the more/less, therefore, then, so, etc. The word af,
often translated as all the more/less (its distinctively a-fortiori reading), more broadly
means also, similarly. The word ki, which in modern Hebrew usually has the limited

76

JUDAIC LOGIC

meaning of because, has evidently in Biblical Hebrew a broader range of meaning,

including even then. The use of vav (and) in the sense of then is also found in English
(e.g. Press the button and the motor starts), and therefore needs no explanation.
c.
Antecedents and consequents need not in Biblical Hebrew, anymore than in
the modern idiom or in English or French, be signaled by any if or then operators; they
may be tacitly understood by the context, or be left out to avoid repetitions. (Nowadays, we
often use a comma to signal a tacit then in written texts.) Grammatically, logical
operators are merely conjunctions, they serve to bring sentences together in various ways.
d.
Although initially expressions like hen, af-ki, ve-af-ki, ve-ekh, halo made it
possible for me to discover a-fortiori arguments, I eventually realized that they were not or
not-wholly in fact logically essential factors in these arguments. Ekh (how) and halo (is it
not that) are never then-operator of arguments, but always an integral part of the
consequent/conclusion in which they appear, serving as rhetorical devices: how will you do
this? meaning, you cannot do it; is it not that so and so? meaning, it is so and so. As for afki, ve-af-ki, although the af particle serves as then-operator of arguments, the ve and ki may
have a role either as if-operator of the argument, or as if or then operator of its premise
and/or conclusion.
In this context, I would like to refer the reader to Esra Shereshevskys very
interesting analysis of Rashis interpretative techniques, where some of the fine nuances in
the meaning of words like ve and ki are discussed80.
Apart from that, please note that my use of the operators if/then is here very loose,
generic (and not exclusively logical); I do not here push the analysis on down to deeper
levels, to distinguish between the different modal types of conditioning: the logical (if), the
natural/temporal (when, at such times as), and the extensional (in such instances as). The
if/then operators of any logical argument are of course of logical modality, but the
conditional premises and conclusions (if any) they enclose may be of other modal types.

3.

The Data and their Analysis.

The table below lists the results of these researches, my own proposed list of
Biblical a-fortiori arguments. I repeat, it is not necessarily exhaustive; and it should be
added, some of the arguments are strong, unassailable, some are comparatively weak, open
to rebuttal, but I think they are all reasonably clear samples of the form. Opposite each
Biblical reference I indicate the apparent if/then logical operators (if any), and
parenthetically any of the typical a-fortiori expressions hen, hine, lahen, af-ki, ve-af-ki, veekh, halo, which helped me personally find the case in addition to the operators
themselves.

80

Pp. 73-99.

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

Table 5.1
No.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31

REFERENCE
Torah Books
Gen. 4:24
Gen. 44:8
Exod. 6:12
Num. 12:14
Deut. 31:27
Historic Books
1-Sam. 14:29-30
1-Sam. 21:6
1-Sam. 23:3
2-Sam. 4:10-11
2-Sam. 12:18
2-Sam. 16:11
1-Kings 8:27
2-Chron. 6:18
2-Kings 5:13
2-Kings 10:4
Other Books
Job 4:17-19
Job 15:15-16
Job 25:5-6
Ps. 78:20
Ps. 94:9
Ps. 94:9
Ps. 94:10
Prov. 11:31
Prov. 15:11
Prov. 19:7
Prov. 19:10
Prov. 21:27
Jer. 12:5
Jer. 12:5
Ezek. 15:5
Dan. 2:9

Proposed list of Biblical A-Fortiori.

OPERATORS

INITIAL
CLUES

ki/ve
hen/ve
hen/ve
-/hen/af

(tradition)
hen, ve-ekh
hen, ve-ekh
halo
hen, ve-af-ki

reu/af
ki/af
hine/af
ki/af
hine/ve
hine/af
hine/af
hine/af
ki/af
hine/ve

af-ki
ve-af-ki
hine, ve-af-ki
af-ki, halo
hine, ve-ekh
hine, ve-af-ki
hine, af-ki
hine, af-ki
ve-af-ki
hine, ve-ekh

hen/af
hen/af
hen/af
hen/gam,im
-/im/-/hen/af
ki/af
ki/af
ki/af
ki/af
ki/ve
u/ve
hine/af
lahen/ve

hen, af
hen, af-ki
hen, af-ki
hen
halo
halo
halo
hen, af-ki
af-ki
af-ki
af-ki
af-ki
ve-ekh
ve-ekh
hine, af-ki
lahen

77

78

JUDAIC LOGIC

We see that there are at least 31 cases of a-fortiori in the Tanakh, 5 of them in four
books of the Torah proper, and 26 more in eleven other books (counting Samuel and Kings
as two each). Some of these arguments are repetitive, and perhaps should not be counted as
distinct. For instance, 1-Kings 8:27 and 2-Chron. 6:18 are definitely one and the same
argument, reported in two different books. The three arguments in Job might be counted as
one and the same thought, in spite of small verbal variations; and similarly the two in
Jeremiah. The two arguments in Ps. 94:9 have the same major premise, and might be
viewed as a compound. On the other hand, Ps. 78:20 might be viewed as two arguments
with the same premises but separate conclusions, instead of a single argument with a
compound conclusion. Thus, the total number may be as small as 26, or as large as 32,
depending on how we count. In any event, the above table may be summarized as follows:
Table 5.2
OPERATORS
ki/af
hen/af
hine/af
reu/af
ki/ve
u/ve
hen/ve
hine/ve
lahen/ve
hen/gam,im
im/-/-

Frequencies of A-Fortiori Operators.

(HEBREW)
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
,/
.../
.../...

FREQ.
7
5
5
1
2
1
2
2
1
1
1
3

LOCATIONS
1S, 2S, 2K, Pr.
Dt, Jb, Pr.
1S, 2S, 2K, 2C, Ez.
1S.
G, Jr.
Jr.
G, Ex.
2S, 2K.
Dn.
Ps.
Ps.
N, Ps.

We note that, broadly speaking, the individual key words/phrases, and more
significantly their combinations, seem to be fairly evenly distributed throughout the Bible:
the language is on the whole pretty uniform. Some books, such as Leviticus, Joshua,
Judges, and others, have no a-fortiori arguments to my knowledge; but I see no reason why
they should, nor what might be inferred from the fact (perhaps somebody else might
eventually). If we pay attention to the traditional dating of the reported speakers in each of
the above arguments, we find the following results:

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

Table 5.3

79

A-Fortiori Arguments: By Whom, How Often, When.

SPEAKER

FREQUENCY

Lemech
Josephs Brothers
Moses
God (thru Moses)
Eliphaz
Bildad
Jonathan
David
Davids men
Asaph
Solomon
Naamans servants
Jezreel rulers
God (thru Jeremiah)
God (thru Ezekiel)
Nebuchadnezzar

1
1
5
1
2
1
1
3
2
1
7
1
1
2
1
1

TRADITIONAL
DATING
Pre-Deluge
Patriarchal
Sinaitic
Sinaitic
Sinaitic
Sinaitic
United Kingdom
United Kingdom
United Kingdom
United Kingdom
United Kingdom
Northern Kingdom
Northern Kingdom
End of First Temple
End of First Temple
First Exile.

We see in the above table that apart from 4 of the arguments attributed to God, 21
(68%) of them are spoken by Jews and 6 (19%) by non-Jews. Thus, judging from Biblical
sources alone, this form of reasoning seems to be rather predominantly Jewish, though not
unknown to non-Jews. I do not intend this remark as racist, but merely wish to arouse
interest in historical studies of logic. It would be interesting to know whether a-fortiori
arguments appear, say, in Sumerian, Babylonian, Egyptian, Canaanite, Assyrian, or Greek
epigraphs or documents; and if so, as of when and how often.
Furthermore, out of 31 cases, only 2 are pre-Sinaitic; 9 (29%) are from Moses
time, meaning about 13th century BCE; 14 (45%) are from the monarchies of Saul, David
and Solomon, roughly mid-9th/mid-8th century BCE; and the remaining 6 (19%) are from
the period from the splitting of the kingdom to the Babylonian Exile, roughly mid-8th/mid4th century BCE.
In the course of this research, it occurred to me that the language used in the Bible
for a-fortiori arguments (and eventually for other types of reasoning) might serve as a
dating tool, to resolve issues between Traditionalists and Higher-Critics with regard to
the ages and authorship of the various books of the Bible. However, looking at the above
results, I personally see no firm conclusions possible in this respect (even if the dating
proposed by the Critical school is considered in lieu of the traditional).
The only overall conclusion I can suggest is that a-fortiori argument was a rather
common form of reasoning since early on in the Biblical narrative, and on up to its end,
with the greatest frequency occurring in the 9th-8th centuries BCE. Perhaps, after all, the
valuable conclusion to draw is that the hypothesis of some of the critics that most of the

80

JUDAIC LOGIC

earlier books of the Bible were composed, or at least compiled, much later than tradition
claims, i.e. at about the same time as most of the later books, is if not eliminated at least
not justified by this data, since if it were true one might expect more, or as, frequent use of
the a-fortiori argument in the later books compared to the earlier books. But even this is
barely probabilistic and open to debate, of course.

4.

Synthesis of Results.

Now, let us return to the discussion regarding the number of a-fortiori arguments
in the Bible. First, let me mention in passing that I doubt seriously that Esth. 9:12 qualifies
as a genuine qal vachomer argument; I demonstrate this at length in the next chapter
already mentioned. I may add here that although Genesis Rabbah purports to embody the
undebatable tradition and final truth on the matter, its apparent error in enumerating only
10 qal vachomer arguments in the Bible, when there are evidently at least some three times
that number, allows us to evaluate its statements much more critically, and doubt that this
10th statement really qualifies as a qal vachomer.
I say apparent error, because one might always put forward the defense that the
ten statements chosen by the Midrash were in fact in some hidden way special, having
something the others lack. Indeed, a Rabbi of my acquaintance, R. Alexander Safran of
Geneva, upon being told by me of the discovery of qal vachomer arguments other than the
Midrashic ten, offered precisely this defense.
Now, it must be stressed that there is evidently no formal or linguistic distinction
possible: that is evident from all our discoveries and insights and cannot be contested.
Therefore, as always in such situations, the defenders of the faith must fall back onto
homiletic or mystical interpretations, and claim these ten statements as having some special
ethical, historical, or qabalistic import that the others lack. I leave that job to whoever.
A more intriguing defense was suggested to me by a friend, Sammy Soussan, who
studies in a kollel (Talmudic study group) in Aix-les-Bains. He asked me to verify whether
the Midrashs ten qal vachomer arguments might not simply be samples of ten distinct
formal types, whose typology and no other would be merely repeated in the other twenty or
so cases I found. My immediate response was that such a view was unlikely to be true,
because my formal studies have revealed that the number of distinct forms is (according to
how counted) two, four, or eight, but not ten (nor five).
As we saw earlier, an a-fortiori may be positive or negative, subjectal or predicatal
(if categorical) or antecedental or consequental (if conditional). With regard to the ten (or
eleven) Midrashic a-fortiori, they have the following logical forms (most naturally, though
they can be recast into other forms): 2 are positive subjectal, 3 are negative subjectal, 2 are
positive predicatal, and 2, 3, or 4 are positive antecedental; more specifically:
Gen. 4:24 is negative subjectal;
Gen. 44:8 is positive predicatal;
Exod. 6:12 is negative subjectal;
Num. 12:14 is positive subjectal;
Deut. 31:27 is positive predicatal;
1-Sam. 23:3 is positive antecedental;

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

81

Jer. 12:5 has two positive antecedentals;

Ezek. 15:5 is negative subjectal;
Prov. 11:31 is positive subjectal;
Esth. 9:12 is positive antecedental (if at all a-fortiori).
It is interesting to note anyway that Gen. 4:24 and Ezek. 15:5 are both negative
subjectal in form, because if (a) only one or the other Midrashic list of qal vachomer
arguments is to be adopted, but not a fusion of both, though both must be accepted as
equally valid, and (b) the Soussan hypothesis turned out to be correct, then these two afortiori arguments would have to be of the same form, which they are. Nevertheless, the
hypothesis is incorrect, because its main prediction, namely that the Midrashic list of ten
includes ten (or five) distinct forms, cannot be upheld.
None of these cases, read simply, are negative predicatal, negative antecedental, or
either way consequental, in form; therefore, if at best the Midrash may be said to hint at the
formalities of a-fortiori, it does not represent them all. Furthermore, it can be shown on a
case-by-case basis that all the Biblical a-fortiori, recognized as such in the present study,
fall neatly into our classification; i.e. that as far as the data at hand is concerned, this
classification is exhaustive. This reasoning would seem to preclude the proposed defense:
we can predict with confidence that the Midrash is not a taxonomy.
Alternatively, we might consider the possibility that the Midrash list of ten qal
vachomer arguments reveals ten types of phraseology. There are various aspects to this
linguistic question: we may focus on individual operators or on their combinations or on
key words/phrases or on their combinations in turn. Also, we may ask whether the
Midrashic list amounts to precisely ten such expressions, and we may ask whether that
number is (in view of new discoveries) exhaustive.
Firstly, we must admit that the Midrashic list does not cover all the individual
operators or combinations thereof found in Biblical a-fortiori. With regard to if-operators,
it includes hen, hine, ki, u, but ignores reu, im, lahen; with regard to then-operators, it
includes ve, af, meh, and ignores gam, im. These oversights are somewhat open to debate:
the sentences concerned could be constructed or understood without interpreting these
words as operators; but in any case the total number is not ten (it is 7 in the Midrash list,
and 11 in mine).
With regard to combinations of operators, while the list spots ki/ve, u/ve, hen/ve,
hen/af, hine/af, -/meh, -/-, it misses the most frequent combination ki/af, as well as hine/ve,
lahen/ve, reu/af, hen/gam,im, im/-; and in any case, again, the total number is not ten (but
6-7 in the Midrash, and 12-13 in my view).
As for the number of individual key words/phrases presented by the Midrash, it is
also nine; hen, hine, ki, u/ve, ve-ekh, halo, ve-af-ki, af-ki, and meh, however we organize
our list. Unless, that is, we regard the u signaling the antecedent of the second part of Jer.
12:5, and the ve which flags the consequent of Gen. 4:24, as two distinct terms, which they
are in meaning (u=if, ve=then) though not in spelling (vav). In that case, and retaining Esth.
9:12, we obtain the desired number of ten distinct key words/phrases in the Midrash.
However, the Midrash is not exhaustive in this respect; since, in a larger perspective, 4-5
expressions are missing here, namely: reu, im (as if or as then), gam, lahen.
With regard to key words/phrases in combination, since two of the cases the
Midrash lists use the same language (hen/ve-ekh in Gen. 44:8 and Exod. 6:12), there are
only nine combinations, even if we like Rashi include Gen. 4:24 (ki/ve) in the list instead
of Ezek. 15:5 (since its hine/af-ki is then excluded). However, if we both count Jer. 12:5 as

82

JUDAIC LOGIC

one qal vachomer instead of two, but one which reveals two phraseologies, and include
Gen. 4:24 in the list without excluding Ezek 15:5, and of course (contrary to my
recommendation) do not leave out Esth. 9:12, we obtain the desired number of ten distinct
combinations of key expressions. But here again, this number is not exhaustive, ignoring as
it does combinations like reu/af-ki, ki/ve-af-ki, and so on.
To sum up: to its credit, the Midrash list reveals crucial expressions like ve-ekh,
halo, ve-af-ki, etc., which signal qal vachomer arguments (though not invariably). It
includes ten (or eleven) Biblical samples (I say 9-10) of qal vachomer; and these samples
can be acknowledged to display ten key expressions and ten combinations thereof.
However, the Midrash listing of 10 cases is certainly incomplete, whether regarded
statistically, logically or linguistically.
Thus, we have found no scientific justification of the Midrashic listing of only ten
qal vachomer arguments. It must be viewed as intended, in the said respects, to be at best a
partial and random set of examples. If the author of the list intended it to be complete or
systematic with reference to the number of samples or to logical formalities or to language
forms, he failed: his research was sloppy. The only possible way out of these conclusions
is, following the Safran hypothesis, to presume that the author had homiletic or mystical
motives for his selection.

5.

Talmudic/Rabbinic A-Fortiori.

final word, concerning a-fortiori argument in Talmudic and post-Talmudic

Rabbinic literature. The language actually used in such literature for a-fortiori reasoning is
various, and according to The Practical Talmud Dictionary of four main types (as listed
below). See also Talmudic Terminology81, and other similar books on the subject.
a.
Various phrases with the word din (meaning logical judgment, usually afortiori), namely: eino din she, din, dina (Aram.), bedin, vedin hu, vehadin notein, vehalo
din hu.
b.
Variants of kol sheken (meaning all the more so), namely: kol sheken, kol
deken (Aram.), lo kol sheken.
c.
The expression al achat kamah vekamah (meaning if in this case... how
much more so in that other case). This expression is reportedly used more in Hagadic than
Halakhic contexts.
d.
And the defining expression qal vachomer (meaning leniency and
strictness; note that qal should more precisely have been qol, being a noun like chomer).
With regard to the frequency of use of this terminology, not having a concordance
of post-Biblical literature, I cannot say with precision what it is in fact. If we refer to the
Index Volume of the Soncino edition (1952) of the Babylonian Talmud, we find the entries
enumerated below, which suggest a minimum of 137 arguments of the type concerning us.
I say suggest, because the references are to page numbers, which may contain more than
one argument of the same type; also, not having looked at them, I cannot guarantee that
they are all legitimate cases. I would suspect offhand, on the basis of my minimal
81

Pp. 69-70.

REVISED LIST OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

83

experience of Talmud study, that this list is incomplete (all the more so if we include the
Commentaries).

A fortiori
A minori ad majus
Deduction, proofs by
Inference from minor to major
Kal wa-homer
Major, inference from minor to
Minor, inference from major to

52
31
2
8
34
8
2

In comparing Biblical and Talmudic/Rabbinic literature, certain trends are

observable, with regard to the a-fortiori argument. First, with respect to quantity: the
Tanakh records at least some thirty cases (which does not of course mean that there were
not much more unrecorded cases); in the Talmud I would venture to guess offhand the
number of cases to be in the hundreds, and if we look at later literature (for example,
Rashi, who seems to have a predilection for the form), it appears very common there too.
Second, with respect to quality: the complexity and confidence of a-fortiori use is
progressively greater; more complicated conditional arguments are used, more elements of
the argument are left tacit. This has to do with the level of theoretical support and
linguistic sophistication: the a-fortiori language of Biblical times is colloquial and general
(undifferentiated if/then terminology is used, typical expressions like ve-af-ki occur in
contexts other than a-fortiori); in Talmudic times, and thereafter, we find common use of
expressions like qal vachomer or kol sheken which indicate a theoretical reflection (like the
work of Hillel, Shammai, R. Akiba, or R. Ishmael), and constitute a much more specialized
lexicon.
I would like to point out that the absence in the whole Bible of such technical
expressions would tend to belie the anachronistic thesis that Talmudic-style pilpul (more or
less logical argumentation for interpretative purposes) existed in an already highly
developed form in Biblical times. Had, say, king David already had a similar intellectual
context, and studied daily in a similar manner (as some commentators later claimed),
would he not have tended to use an equally explicit vocabulary, even in his everyday
discourse (as is the case with Rabbis, scholars and students even today)?
That is, the claim that the gift of the Torah at Sinai included a ready-made oral
equivalent of the Talmud and later writings, with all the accessory hermeneutic principles
more or less clearly implied, does not seem confirmed by the foregoing observations.
Absence of evidence is of course not proof to the contrary, but it weakens a thesis
somewhat. The alternative theory, that consciousness or at least verbalizing of logic
underwent a historical development after Sinai seems, in the light of the above, more
credible.
On the other hand, the above observations tend to confirm the tradition that all the
books in the Biblical Canon are rather ancient. The claim by some critics that, for instance,
the book of Daniel is a literary product of much later times, seems belied by its logical
language (lahen/ve), which is rather typically Biblical. Of course, even that can be faked;
but to do so would imply a certain awareness of the logical idiom of the Bible, which as we

84

JUDAIC LOGIC

have seen even the author of the Genesis Rabbah some centuries later had apparently not
fully mastered.
In the last analysis, however, it is hard to say precisely when, between Biblical and
Mishnaic times, the change in logical language occurred. The most likely hypothesis is that
it occurred just where the extant written record places it: namely, more or less abruptly, in
the way of a cultural revolution, during the formative century or two of the Mishnah
(roughly, 1st century BCE to 1st century CE), continuing on through the centuries during
which the Gemara was developed.
For, as is evident from its form and content, the intellectual reflection on logic,
which gave rise to this language change and is manifest in it, did not occur in a vacuum, as
pure philosophical theory, but as ad hoc response to the specific issues the Talmudic
Rabbis encountered in formulating their legal thoughts and debates. This verbal reflection
on logic, like its legal context, must have been written down to some extent at about the
same time as it was developed, for the simple reason that the human mind, even at its best,
can only handle so much data by itself; after which it needs material supports.
Just as arithmetic calculation cannot develop far without pencil and paper, and
eventually algebraic tools (and still further on, computers); and likewise endeavors like
architecture are limited without geometrical drawing, and eventually theoretical equipment
(and later still, more sophisticated technologies); so without the use of written words to
solidify past stages of thought and debate, and eventually abstract reflection on the logical
methodology underlying it, cogitation cannot credibly develop beyond a certain intellectual
level.

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

85

6. THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI.

In this essay, my purpose is to analyze the language actually used in Biblical afortiori statements. An empirical study, without preconceptions.

A Biblical a-fortiori argument, as we saw, usually consists of two more or less

explicit sentences, one of which is the minor premise and the other the conclusion; the
major premise is always more or less tacit. The said premise and the conclusion may be,
one or both of them, categorical or conditional in form, and may be expressed in full or be
in part merely implied.
The premise and conclusion are usually, though not always, signaled by words
which serve as if and then operators, respectively. However, such keywords
sometimes concern, not the argument as such, as a whole, but instead belong within clauses
subsidiary to the argument. Our job here, therefore, is to distinguish and avoid confusion
between the if/then operators (if any) which frame the arguments antecedent (premise)
and consequent (conclusion), from the operators (if any) which play a role as part of these
sentences. 82

1.

Torah Books.

Genesis 4:24. Lemekh ben Methushael:

If (ki): Cain shall be avenged sevenfold,
then (ve): Lemekh [shall be avenged] seventy and seven-fold.
Rashis reading: If the punishment on Cain, who willfully murdered, was
delayed seven generations, surely my Lemekhs punishment will be
deferred for many times seven, seeing that I slew unintentionally.
The if/then operators of this argument are ki/ve. I must say that without Rashis
commentary, this verse would seem pretty obscure, to me at least. This perhaps attests to
its true antiquity. In any case, we may accept Rashis interpretation of the sentence as an a82

I have referred to various standard translations: for the Pentateuch, Samuel and Kings,
mainly to the more classical Soncino Books of the Bible; for the Psalms, to The Metsudah Tehillim,
and for the rest to The Jerusalem Bible. In some cases I have had to make small modifications in
the choice or order of words, called for by the needs of our analysis. I make an effort to explain the
positions I have taken; though if situations are similar, I try to avoid repeating myself. (The
mystically inclined may find it interesting to notice, in passing, the content of the Biblical passages
this research happens to have brought together; their collective message, as it were.)

86

JUDAIC LOGIC

fortiori argument. The story-context he adduces from tradition is that Lemekh slew Cain
accidentally while hunting for deer.
Note that this a-fortiori argument is not perfectly constructed; although the
movement from willful to unintentional (the tacit major premise) is indeed a-fortiori, the
transition from seven (in the minor premise) to seventy-seven (in the conclusion) does not
obey the dayo rule: there is an extrapolation involved, which may have an inductive
justification, but which is weak from the deductive point of view. However, although this
is a Biblical passage, it has no Halakhic authority which might support non-dayo
reasoning, being the private pronouncement of Lemekh, and not a statement of Divine or
prophetic origin.
Genesis 44:8. Josephs Brothers:
Behold (hen): the money, which we found in our sacks mouths, we brought back
unto thee out of the land of Canaan;
then (ve): how (ekh) should we steal out of thy lords house silver or gold?
Here, the if/then operators are hen/ve. Hen (behold) signals a presentation of
evidence; while ve (and) presents the inference to be drawn from it. The expression ekh
(how) is part of the conclusion, serving rhetorically to deny the brothers ability to steal; it
literally means: given the evidence, how could anyone logically uphold such a claim (that
the brothers would steal). Thus, ekh signifies necessity of the denial of a claim: it has a
modal function; and so we could regard it as qualifying the overall relation between
premise(s) and conclusion, instead of as merely an internal qualifier of the conclusion.
Exodus 6:12. Moses:
Behold (hen): the Children of Israel have not hearkened unto me;
then (ve): how (ekh) shall Pharaoh hear me?
Same language as in the previous case.
Numbers 12:14. God:
[Granting that:] if (ve) her father had but spit in her face, should she not (halo)
hide in shame seven days?
[Similarly, since God is angry with her,] let her be shut up without the camp seven
days.
In this case, the argument as a whole, although clearly a-fortiori in intent, is
expressed without explicit if/then operators (this is not disturbing, but a common manner
of speaking in all languages). The stated premise is a conditional proposition, with ve as its
if-operator but without explicit then-operator; the expression halo serves a rhetorical
purpose within the consequent. The conclusion (as seen in our earlier technical analysis),
though stated as a categorical proposition, should be read as a conditional one devoid of

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

87

explicit operators; its tacit antecedent clause being the fact of Divine disapproval, while its
consequent is similar to the premises.
With regard to halo (is it not that): it expresses in the speaker and causes in the
hearer a certain turn of mind, which is not peculiarly Hebrew or oriental, but is equally to
be found in western formal logic. Its role is to remind us of the following formality: if X,
then Y means that X cannot but exist with Y, and not merely that X and Y happen to have
occurred together. Thus, halo, like ekh, is a modality, though of opposite polarity; while
ekh means must deny (=cannot affirm), halo means cannot but affirm (=must affirm);
and, in the last analysis, such modality may just as well be viewed as concerning the whole
antecedent-consequent relation concerned, rather than merely the consequent part of it.
Deuteronomy 31:27. Moses:
Behold (hen): while (be) I am yet alive with you this day, ye have been rebellious
against the Lord;
how much more (af): in the time (ki) after my death, so (ve) [i.e. will ye be
rebellious]?
Here, I suggest, the if/then of the a-fortiori argument as such are hen/af. The
premise is a conditional proposition with be as its if-operator, and no explicit thenoperator. The conclusion is similarly a conditional proposition, with ki as its if-operator,
and ve (meaning, so or the-same) as its then-operator tacitly implying ye will be
rebellious. The expression actually used in the text is ve af ki, but the elements of this
expression play distinct roles in the statement, which is why I have slightly reshuffled
them.

2.

Historical Books.

1 Samuel 14:29-30. Jonathan:

See (reu): because (ki) I tasted a little of this honey, how (ki) mine eyes are
brightened.
How much more (af): if (ki) haply the people had eaten freely today of the spoil of
their enemies which they found, then (ki) would there not have been a much greater
slaughter among the Philistines?
Here, the qal vachomer is a larger if/then statement, signaled by reu/af, within
which are contained two smaller if/then statements, signaled by ki/ki, which are
respectively the minor premise and the conclusion of the argument. (Note the reshuffle of
antecedent and consequent in the premise for the sake of logical clarity. The original,
opposite, order serves merely a rhetorical purpose: from phenomenon to its explanation,
from effect to cause - it is a didactic presentation.) Dayo principle ignored.

88

JUDAIC LOGIC

1 Samuel 21:6. David:

Of a truth (ki): when (be) I came out, though (ve) it was but a common journey,
yet (im) women have been kept from us about these three days, and (ve) the vessels
of the young men were holy;
how much more (af): when (ki) today there shall be holy bread in the vessels, so
(ve) [i.e. have we avoided women and kept the young mens vessels holy].
In this case, the qal vachomer proper is formed with the operators ki/af. It has a
conditional proposition, with a compound antecedent and a compound consequent, as
premise (here re-ordered for clarity); and another, with a simple antecedent and a tacit but
obvious enough compound consequent, as conclusion. The operators (be/im) and
conjunctives (ve) within the premise, and those within the conclusion (ki/ve), are not to be
counted among the operators of the argument as such.
1 Samuel 23:3. Davids men:
Behold (hine): here in (be) Judah [=our own territory], we are afraid;
how much more (af): if (ki) we go to Keilah [=enemy territory], so (ve) [i.e. will we
be afraid]?
Here, the operators of the a-fortiori as such are hine/af. The premise is in
conditional form, its antecedent being signaled by be, but its consequent having no signal
(as is common in all languages). The conclusion is announced by the phrase ve af ki: the af
of this phrase belongs, as we said, to the qal vachomer construction, while the ve of ve af ki
serves to imply the consequent of the conclusion, equating it to the consequent of the
premise (and it is for this reason left tacit in the text, to avoid repetition), and the ki of ve af
ki refers to the antecedent of the conclusion.
2 Samuel 4:10-11. David:
If (ki): [when] one told me saying, behold, Saul is dead and (ve) he was in his
own eyes as though he had brought good tidings, then (ve) I took hold of him and
(ve) slew him in Ziklag in the way of reward.
How much more (af): when (ki) wicked men have slain a righteous man in his own
house upon his bed, then (ve) now shall I not (halo) require his blood of your hand
and (ve) take you away from the earth?
In this case, the arguments if/then operators are ki/af. The minor premise consists
of a conditional, with both theses compound, without explicit if-operator (unless the initial
ki is intended to serve a dual purpose, to avoid saying ki ki) and with ve as then-operator.
The conclusion is also a conditional proposition, with a compound consequent, with ki/ve
as operators. The extra occurrences of ve serve to signal compound antecedences or
consequences. Dayo principle obeyed.

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

89

2 Samuel 12:18. Davids servants:

Behold (hine): while (be) the child was yet alive, [Davids sorrow was so great
that] we spoke unto him, and (ve) he hearkened not unto our voice;
then (ve): how (ekh) shall we tell him that the child is dead, so that (ve) he do
himself some harm?
In this case, the operators of the qal vachomer as a whole are hine/ve, and these
frame two conditional propositions. One, the premise, has be as if-operator, but no visible
then-operator (and indeed part of its compound consequent is also tacit); the other, the
conclusion, has no visible if-operator, though it has ve as its then-operator (ekh serves an
internal rhetorical purpose in the conclusion: without ekh the conclusion would be merely
hypothetical if we tell him, he will harm himself, ekh signals a pursuit of the reasoning by
apodosis we do not want him to harm himself, therefore we cannot tell him).
Note that the whole a-fortiori argument is itself enclosed in a wider
antecedent/consequent (not shown above), expressed by ki (because they thought thus), ve
(therefore they feared to tell him). All these sentences within sentences can lead to
confusion; that is why it is important to analyze their logical hierarchy carefully, if we
want to be clear as to the identity of a-fortiori argument per se. Dayo principle ignored.
2 Samuel 16:11. David:
Behold (hine): my son, who came forth from my body, seeketh my life [still, I do
not react];
how much more (af): in the case of (ki) this Benjamite now [who is less close], and
curseth [me], then (ve) should I let him alone; for the Lord has bidden him.
Here, the argument is signaled by hine/af. The premise is a conditional proposition
without any explicit operator, and with a tacit consequent implied by the conclusion. The
conclusion takes the ki of the expression ve af ki as if-operator and, we might say, its ve as
then-operator. But more precisely, the conclusion, having an explicit consequent, can do
without the ve conjunction, which rather serves to imply the tacit consequent of the
premise.
As for the phrase for the Lord has bidden him, its function is to strengthen the
bonds between antecedent and consequent in the premise and the conclusion; for neither of
these bonds is naturally automatic, but they proceed from a volitional choice by David.
One might well object that the leeway a kings son may be granted is not applicable to a
mere subject like Shimei (the Benjamite in question); in that case, Davids argument seems
weak: at worst concealing passivity or fatalism, at best mercifulness in time of trouble. For
this reason, David has to explain himself, clarify his motivation, and point to his general
attitude of acceptance of Gods will. Once the if/then bonds are thus firmed, the qal
vachomer as such can proceed more credibly.

90

JUDAIC LOGIC

1 Kings 8:27 and 2 Chronicles 6:18. Solomon:

Behold (hine), heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain thee;
how much less (af): in the case of (ki) this house that I have builded, will (ki) God
in very truth dwell on the earth i.e. be contained in this house?
Here, the a-fortiori is expressed through hine/af. The premise is categorical in
form, needing no operators; and the conclusion uses the operator ki for both its antecedent
and consequent, the former deriving from the expression af ki, and the latter being stated in
the original text even before the premise, together with the consequent of the conclusion
(which is here properly moved to last place).
2 Kings 5:13. Naamans servants:
Granting (ki): had the prophet bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not
(halo) have done it?
how much rather (af): he [merely] saith to thee: wash and be clean? then (ve) [you
should do it]
In this argument, ki and af might be taken from the key phrase ve af ki as the if- and
then- operators of the a-fortiori argument as a whole. The premise is a conditional
proposition, bare of any explicit operators (though containing the rhetorical expression
halo). The conclusion consists of an explicit antecedent with a tacit if-operator, and a tacit
consequent implied by the explicit ve in the key phrase. (This interpretation is open to
debate: one might equally have regarded the ki as if-operator of the conclusion, or of the
premise; or it might be viewed as playing a triple role. See also Prov. 15:11 below.)
2 Kings 10:4. The rulers of Jezreel in Samaria:
Behold (hine): the two kings [Joram and Ahaziah, who were powerful men], stood
not before him [Jehu];
then (ve): [we, who are relatively weak,] how (ekh) shall we stand [before him]?
In this case, the a-fortiori is signaled by hine/ve. The premise and conclusion have
no explicit operators, because, though explicitly categorical, they are implicitly of
conditional form. Dayo principle obeyed.

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

3.

91

Other Books.

Job 4:18-19. Eliphaz the Temanite:

Behold (hen): He puts no trust in His servants, and (u) His angels he charges with
folly;
how much more (af): those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the
dust [does He distrust and charge with folly]?
Job 15:15-16. Eliphaz the Temanite:
Behold (hen): He puts no trust in His holy ones; and (ve) the heavens are not clean
in His sight.
How much less (af): one who (ki) is abominable and filthy, man, who drinks
iniquity like water [does He trust or consider clean]!
Job 25:5-6. Bildad the Shuhite:
Behold (hen): even the moon has no brightness, and (ve) the stars are not pure in
His sight;
how much less (af): man, that (ki) is a worm [is bright and pure in His sight]?
In Job, we find three a-fortiori arguments with very similar wording and
significance, namely that man cannot judge God, being infinitely morally inferior to Him.
In each case, the operators of the argument are hen/af. The latter two cases involve the
expression af ki; whereas the first case has af without ki, which proves incidentally that the
word af can be used independently of ki.
Psalms 78:20. Asaph:
Behold (hen): He struck a rock, then (ve) waters flowed and (u) streams burst
forth.
In that case (gam): bread He can give; is there any doubt that (im): He will prepare
meat for His people?
The if-operator of argument is hen, and gam and im seem to be its then-operators.
The premise is a conditional proposition, without if-operator, though with ve as thenoperator to a compound consequent. The conclusion is double, a compound of categoricals.
The implicit major premise has to be, for a-fortiori purposes, that it is just as hard (or
harder) to get water from a rock as (or than) to provide bread and meat. Incidentally,
Asaph probably refers to the Levite serving in the Temple during Davids reign,
mentioned in 1 Chron. 16:7.

92

JUDAIC LOGIC

Psalms 94:9-10. Moshe:

He who implanted the ear, does He not (halo) hear?
If (im) He formed the eye, does He not (halo) see?
He who chastises nations, does He not (halo) reprove the individual?
Here, we have three distinct qal vachomer arguments, with the same thrust (in each
case, the conclusion is something easier to do than the premise83). One of them has im as ifoperator, but two of them have no if-operator; and none of them has a then-operator,
though all three use instead the rhetorical expression halo.
Proverbs 11:31. Solomon:
Behold (hen): the just man shall be recompensed on earth:
how much more (af): the wicked and the sinner, so (ki) [i.e. shall be recompensed
on earth].
This statement is a-fortiori only if recompense is interpreted negatively as in if
the just man (who has few sins) will be punished here on earth, all the more will the
wicked and the sinner (who has many sins) be so punished (this being minor to major
positive subjectal, valid). If recompense were interpreted positively, the statement would
not constitute a valid a-fortiori (being major to minor positive subjectal); but would needs
be read as a mere conjunctive statement the righteous (who has much credit) will be
rewarded here on earth, and even the wicked and the sinner (who has little credit) will be
so rewarded.
Judging by its use elsewhere, the language (hen/af) favors the former alternative,
namely the statements interpretation as an a-fortiori. The word ki here serves to signal the
tacit predicate of the conclusion (added in brackets), equating it to that of the premise.
People prone to theodicy (like Jeremiah: wherefore doth the way of the wicked
prosper? etc.) would tend to doubt the empirical veracity of this statement, however
interpreted; but one can always argue back that only God really knows mens deepest
motives (as the next argument indeed affirms) and the relative values of all their deeds, and
therefore His empirically apparent judgments might well be fully justified, however
contrary to our expectations. The rebuttal is perhaps too simplistic, which is why appeal by
theologians to a fuller accounting including life after death (and for some, previous lives) is
usual.
Indeed, we find the Malbim (R. Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michael, Rumania, 19th
Cent. CE), with reference to this verse, commenting that while the righteous man tends to
be made to pay for his sins in this world and to be paid for his good deeds in the next, the
wicked man reaps his rewards in this world and is deprived in the next84. However, while
this may well be true, I wonder whether it is logically implicit in the proverb under
83

However, the truth of the first two propositions is open to doubt. This is made evident if we apply similar reasoning to humans and

say "he who designs an airplane, can he not fly?".

84

P. 119.

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

93

scrutiny. For, note well, the minor premise specifies recompense on earth, in which case by
the dayo principle the conclusion must similarly be limited. As far as I can see, we cannot
strictly, without illicit process, extrapolate further, to a world beyond.
I want to add, here, that I have all too often noticed similar breaches of the
sufficiency principle in other Talmudic and Rabbinic commentaries.
Proverbs 15:11. Solomon:
If (ki): hell and destruction are before the Lord;
how much more (af): the hearts of the children of men [are before the Lord]?
Here, the premise is apparently not signaled by an if-operator, while the conclusion
is signaled by the word af; but since both propositions are categorical (the latter with an
explicit subject and an implicit predicate), the word ki, which is normally an operator,
would be redundant if viewed as part of the conclusion: it must therefore be viewed as the
missing if-operator of the argument, more rightfully placed before the premise.
(Alternatively, the argument might have been viewed as lacking an explicit if-operator, and
ki as referring us to the absent predicate of the conclusion; or ki might have both functions.
But see the next case.)
Malbim correctly construes this a-fortiori arguments implicit major premise, when
he states: The netherworld is far deeper, far more beyond sight and ken, than the human
heart...85. The inductive proof of this statement would be that most of us know a bit about
the human heart and nothing at all for sure about the netherworld. Still, I want to make a
general comment in this context, which I think is important.
While the logical form in which the verse under consideration is cast is indubitably
a-fortiori, it cannot really be viewed as instructing a deductive process. Deduction, viewed
very strictly, is inference from more-known contents to the less-known. In the case of our
verse, the minor premise cannot be said to be known by us; rather, it, as well as the
conclusion, are being simultaneously taught to us, presumably as Divinely-inspired. None
of us non-prophets can claim to know what it is that God knows; at best, we have a general
assumption that God knows everything, under which all particular statements made
(whether or not logically ordered, relatively to each other, as premises or conclusions) are
equally subsumed, in which case the inference involved is essentially syllogistic.
We must thus view the whole verse as simply (from a logical point of view) a
statement - that God will judge us, with full knowledge of our most inner thoughts, and
may well send us to hell and perdition. The purpose of this statement is not maieutic,
though outwardly cast in such form, but more practically homiletic, a warning to the
unconverted or a reminder and encouragement to the converted: namely, that there will be
a final judgment, etc. Religious literature, Jewish or otherwise, often indulges in such
rhetorical techniques, giving preachments a maieutic appearance.

85

Ibid., p. 159.

94

JUDAIC LOGIC

Proverbs 19:7. Solomon:

If (ki): all the brethren of the poor do hate him,
how much more (af): do his friends go far from him?
Same operators ki/af as in the previous case, for the same reasons. Note, however,
that here the word ki has no other possible role to play, than the one we have here assigned
to it, since the propositions are not only categorical, but wholly explicit; this justifies the
similar position we took in previous such cases.
With regard to the content: one might point out that sometimes friends or even
strangers will stand by you more than family. At least outwardly - in truth, their motive
may not always be disinterested love for you, but for instances a desire to bind you to them
out of gratitude, so they may use you in the future, or simply a role-play to satisfy their ego
or to impress their peers with their charity or to effect a commercial transaction with God.
Proverbs 19:10. Solomon:
If (ki): for a fool to have luxury is not seemly;
how much less (af): for a servant to have rule over princes [would be seemly].
Same language and logical structure as in the previous case. Note, however, that the
relation between the premise and conclusion is a bit hard to find here; perhaps it is merely
aesthetic: just as the delight of a fool strikes us as distasteful, so the sight of a lowly man
having power over his betters disturbs our sense of fitness. Supposedly, anyway, this is not
a statement of intellectual arrogance, or worse still of aristocratic prejudice, but of moral
concern (the joy of an unintelligent person is not per se ugly; and some princes would
certainly deserve to be ruled by their servants).
Looking further into the matter, I found a very interesting comment by Malbim,
which convincingly elucidates the premise-conclusion relation. He points out that the fool
is one who lets his soul be ruled by his body (in the pursuit of pleasure) - so viewing the
minor premise, the reference to princes and servant in the conclusion becomes less of a
non-sequitur86. However, in that case, premise and conclusion become two metaphors for
the same thing, and the verse becomes a mere reformulation of the same statement, rather
than an a-fortiori argument. Perhaps we should focus on the question, why the reference to
one servant and many princes? This would bring us back to the more socio-political
interpretation of the conclusion.
Proverbs 21:27. Solomon:
If (ki): [even brought with a sincere intent] the sacrifice of the wicked is an
abomination;
how much more (af): brought with a wicked intent [is it abomination]?

86

Ibid., p. 198.

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

95

In this case, as before, the key phrase af ki provides us with the if/then operators
ki/af. Note in the above statement how the first part of the premise and the second part of
the conclusion were both tacit, but could be readily verbalized by imitation of each others
explicit parts - a sort of mirror effect. It is obvious that the premise could not be an
unqualified generality free of the clause we added to it, because then the conclusion would
be included in it and redundant; as for the conclusion, it would clearly be incomplete and
inexplicable without the clause we added to it, which also shows up its a-fortiori relation to
the premise. Thus, though the given propositions seem categorical, they are implicitly
conditional, one with a tacit antecedent, the other with a tacit consequent. They are
formulated with a maximum economy of words, yet because of their symmetry none of the
message is lost.
Jeremiah 12:5. God:
If (ki): thou hast run with the footmen and (ve) they have wearied thee,
then (ve): how (ekh) canst thou contend with horses [and not be wearied]?
and if (u): in the land of peace, thou dost [hardly] feel secure;
then (ve): in the wild country of the Jordan, how (ekh) wilt thou do [feel secure]?
These are two a-fortiori with the same thrust. The if/then operators of these
arguments are respectively ki/ve and u/ve, though in the latter case the u (=ve) conjoins and
equates the two arguments and could thus be viewed as standing in for a tacit ki. Note that
in the first argument, the premise is a conditional proposition without if-operator, though
with ve as then-operator, and the conclusion has similar form though partly tacit. In the
second case, the premise and conclusion are likewise conditional, though all their operators
are tacit. In both cases, ekh is used rhetorically, as usual, to deny the ironically suggested
strength or security.
Ezekiel 15:5. God:
Behold (hine): when (be) it was whole, it was not meet for any work;
how much less (af): when (ki) the fire hath devoured it and (ve) it is burned, shall it
then (ve) yet be meet for any work?
Here, the operators of the argument as a whole are hine/af. The premise is a
conditional with be as if-operator, and no explicit then-operator; and the conclusion is a
conditional proposition (with a conjunctive antecedent, accounting for the first ve,
incidentally), whose operators are ki/ve.

96

JUDAIC LOGIC

Daniel 2:9. Nebuchadnezzar:

Thus (lahen): tell me the dream,
and (ve): I shall know that you can declare its interpretation to me.
Here, the kings utterance is not in itself a qal vachomer argument, strictlyspeaking (since the first statement is an order, not an item of information), but it testifies to
an underlying thought-process which is qal vachomer in form. The argument is obviously
if my advisors are capable of telling me what the dream was, then they are skilled enough
to tell me what it means. For this reason, an if-operator is lacking, though we may take it
to be lahen (cognate to the by now familiar hen), since this is the word the king uses to
express his precondition; likewise, we may consider ve as the then-operator of the
argument, though in the kings statement it refers to the mental consequence in him of the
satisfaction of the precondition he set.

4.

Rejects.

Finally, some comments concerning cases which might superficially be interpreted

as a-fortiori, but which on closer scrutiny fail to make the grade for one reason or another.
Concerning 2 Chronicles 32:15. Sennacherib, king of Assyria (through his
messengers) says:
For (ki): no god of any nation or kingdom was able to deliver his people out of my
hand, and out of the hand of my fathers;
likewise (af): therefore (ki), shall your God not be able to deliver you out of my
hand.
The first statement is based on enumeration of past Assyrian experience; the second
statement is an application of the same predicate to a new subject, Judahs God. The
argument is therefore essentially inductive, going from the relatively particular to greater
generality, and then back down by subsumption (eduction or syllogism) to the new case. It
is not an a-fortiori argument; to have this form, the argument would need as major premise
a statement that some of the gods of the already defeated nations were superior in power to
the God of Judah, and no such statement seems even implied here.
Yet the argument gives an impression of being a-fortiori, because it uses the
characteristic af ki terminology (actually, this sentence uses the word ki twice, once
redundantly, with intent to stress that an inference is involved). Perhaps the speaker wanted
to give it more force, to scare his audience into submission. Note that a bit further on, in
verse 17, essentially the same statement is repeated using another terminology, ken/lo; but
there the style is clearly not a-fortiori.
Note also: 2 Kings 18:23-24, and its repetition in Isaiah 36:8-9, might at first glance
be construed as a-fortiori in style. But try as I might, I have not been able to make a clear

THE LANGUAGE OF BIBLICAL A-FORTIORI

97

a-fortiori argument out of it, however artificial and logically improbable. If we suppose the
speaker is arguing: Even if I give you two thousand horses, you would not be able to set
riders upon them; how then (ve-ekh) can you hope to defeat even the least of my masters
captains? - we are hard put to explain the rest of the statement about trusting in Egypt for
chariots and for horsemen. The text is unclear, even viewed simply.
Lastly, with regard to Esther 9:12. Ahasuerus says:
In (be) Shushan the capital, The Jews have slain and destroyed five hundred men
and the ten sons of Haman;
in (be) the rest of the kings provinces, what (meh) have they done?
This is one of the ten qal vachomer arguments recognized by Genesis Rabbah. As
the Rabbis see it (thus for instance, I read somewhere, does Malbim on the basis of the
Talmud), the king was surprised and angry that Esthers People, the Jews, had been so
threatened that at least 500 anti-Semites were found; this viewpoint would help explain
why the king next asks Esther what else she requests of him (he was concerned, he
evidently felt somewhat responsible).
But frankly I have some doubts as to the sentences status as a qal vachomer
argument. For a start, its language is sui generis: I have not found another a-fortiori
signaled by the word meh. This in itself is not proof, of course, for the linguistic habits of
that place and time may have been distinctive (and I may well have missed other cases).
And indeed, one can easily imagine the statement (perhaps accompanied by an up and
down wave of his open hand87 and an emphasis on the mah) as signifying that the king
expected more people to have been killed in the rest of the kingdom. We of course know
from verse 16 that in fact as many as 75,000 were killed elsewhere.
But the problem is not the kings expectations, but whether an argument (and
specifically an a-fortiori) was at all formulated (let alone, whether or not correctly). Given
the premise, one could reasonably equally well expect that less people were killed
elsewhere. One can as well conceive that most of the Jews enemies were in the capital, as
conceive that they were proportionately (or even more) frequent in the rest of the empire,
according to our view of the sociological profile of anti-Semites. Thus, the kings question
may well have been no more than an open question; and indeed, there is no indication
within the text that his statement was other than a simple statement of amazement and
curiosity.88

87

This is not just a quaint Israeli gesture, but in my view signifies the act of weighing, whence
how much?!
88
I have by chance found (this is June 1998) yet another a-fortiori: Jonah 4:10-11, which
goes to show, as I asserted earlier, that there are probably still more cases than those indicated
thus far. This argument is uttered by the Lord, who says: "Thou art concerned about the castor oil
plant, for which thou hast not laboured..., and should I not be concerned for Nineve, ...." The
expression vaani lo (and should I not) is obviously similar in function to halo.

98

JUDAIC LOGIC

7. WITHOUT PREJUDICE.

In this essay, we consider some of the psycho-social factors underlying religious

modes of thought.89

1.

Taking a Dilemma by its Horns.

As soon as one begins to express opinions on issues related to religion, one is

confronted with an exceptional dilemma, not found in other fields. The first horn of this
dilemma is a possible antipathy of the religious camp, Rabbinical or lay; while its second
horn is a possible discredit in the secular camp, academic or amateur. It is a case of
damned if you do and damned if you dont, very likely without a fair hearing either way.
The philosopher of religion has to be attentive and find some way to take this dilemma by
the horns.
I have chosen, here, to leave a certain ambiguity in the term secular, letting it range from
a neutral position with regard to religion to the more ideological anti-religious position, which is
more accurately called secularist. This is, I think, justified, insofar as individuals themselves are
not always clearly positioned, but may start from a purely secular perspective and travel over to
more decided opinions, or vice versa. Also, of course, being religious does not normally imply
rejection of all secular opinions.

For the religious, the accumulated beliefs of the orthodox Jewish religion are
unshakably true; and the (oft inspired) intellectual processes which have brought about this
accumulation of beliefs from an initial Divine revelation at Sinai are not open to any doubt,
at least no longer so ex post facto, once their result has become established with general
approval of close to contemporary rabbinical authorities. The function of scholarship, here,
is essentially study: retracing steps previously traced; those before knew it all, those after
must try to recapture this knowledge.

89

These reflections arose in the following circumstances. Back in late 1991 or early 1992,
after a couple of months of writing, I had a first draft of some 60 pages, which I distributed copies of
to a few local Jewish academics and Rabbis. Some declined to read it; some found it interesting,
and one had a negative reaction. The latter was Prof. Simon Lauer, to whom my typescript had
been sent by Dr. Esther Starobinski of the Socit suisse d'tudes juive. I do not know how much
of it he actually read, but he (I was told) rejected it as an 'apologetic' work. I was at first rather upset
that he had not noticed and appreciated the constructive elements in it (in particular, my original
theory of a-fortiori argument!), but after a while I had to admit that his criticism was in many
respects appropriate. I wrote this essay to clarify the issues in my own mind, and as a result
resolved to be more critical. More precisely, I resolved to be as honest as possible, neither
pandering to the Jewish religious establishment nor to academia, but admitting difficulties openly
wherever I found them and trying to resolve them as fairly as possible, with neither religious
prejudice nor secularist bias; I would simply record a sincere search for truth.

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

99

For the secular, ideally, any belief must be subjected to independent and fairminded scrutiny and appraisal, both empirically and rationally; and any belief may be
abandoned or be adopted, according to the faults or merits that the investigation may
uncover in the light of all available information and insight. This is an ideal image of the
secular pursuit of truth, because in practice of course different people (or a person at
different times of his/her life) may be more or less capable of developing within
themselves and sustaining the right attitudes, more or less aware of available information
and logical methods, and more or less gifted with native intelligence.
These two epistemological approaches are significantly different; yet they also have
notable common aspects. For the religious, no single factor in the body of received beliefs
can be doubted because that would open the whole structure to collapse. For the secular, all
reviews and changes in beliefs are in principle acceptable, no matter how radical, provided
of course such proposals are convincing. In both cases, there is an implicit threat, a
controlling fear, accompanying any pronouncement: in the former, excommunication or
untold Divine punishments, in the latter, ridicule and professional exclusion. But the two
approaches also make some similar demands on the human intellect: demands of effort,
demands of research and understanding; and they also share a great many logical
processes.
There doesnt seem to be a way to really reconcile these approaches. Albeit their
common grounds, they are apparently on the whole radically opposed principles: there is a
limit and a reticence in the religious, an overriding faith in received tradition, and an
ultimate skepticism in the human mind; the secular optimistically believes in the powers of
free thinking, and looks with suspicion on any prejudicial attachments to particular data or
interpretations.
I would like here to propose certain meditations on Truth, which may help a little to
resolve the issues on both sides.
a.

For the religious.

Faith is an attitude of the human Will in the face of an uncertainty. It signifies an
assumption of truth beyond the recommendations of empirical/rational judgment: where
normal cognition leaves blanks faith is free to step in, and frequently faith steps in against
the probabilities conceived by such uncommitted judgment. Thus, faith is a measurable
concept (roughly, intuitively): it is a will to believe which is inversely proportional to
empirical/rational judgment. If the probability that some proposition be true according to
experience and reason is say 90%, then the faith that it is not true (which has going for it
only a 10% probability) needs to be proportionately strong. It does not, obviously, take
much faith to adhere to a belief which reason and experience already overwhelmingly
support.
It would seem to me to follow that religious people should welcome the challenges
posed to their faith by secular thinking. To maintain ones faith by staying or being kept in
ignorance, is not therefore a sign of piety, but a sign of weakness in ones faith, if not
simply of intellectual laziness or stupidity. Blind fanaticism is not a demonstration of faith,
but a use of force; forcing oneself or being forced by others to adhere to some belief has no
place in the pursuit of truth. A strong, confident faith is generously open and unafraid of
challenge: like true love, it holds firm over the long term, unmoved by the appearances of
the moment, always grateful to receive new information and insights, always searching for
solutions to problems.
The judgment of any proposition, any item of knowledge presented for
consideration and appraisal, is like a court trial (individual and collective), and the

100

JUDAIC LOGIC

person(s) taking up this job is/are judge(s), court officers. It is like the judgment of a
person: there is an ethic to it, a morality is necessary. This ethic is well documented in the
Torah (see for instances Exod. 23:1-9, Deut. 16:18-20, also even Deut. 25:13-15), and as a
consequence in the Talmud, and in Rabbinical writings. Witnesses or judges may have
some intuitive opinion of the outcome of the trial, but in their roles within it they have a
moral duty to maintain an absolute open-mindedness and will to truth. Truth, we are
taught, at all times requires:
treating litigants equally, without prejudice in the face of their poverty or respectability,
their exclusion or inclusion in an in-group, or their virtue or vice beyond the issue
treated;
being uncorrupted by fear of reprisal or promises of reward, and unmoved by peergroup or public opinion and pressures;
finding honest and fair witnesses, and diligently inquiring into their testimony, as well
as giving an equitable hearing to all parties;
distinguishing between hard and circumstantial evidence, and judging with knowledge
of the law and its procedures;
using the same scales and standards for all (under the law); intent on doing justice, and
on neither condemning the innocent nor failing to condemn the guilty.
All this applies as well to the judgment of ideas as to that of men, for is not the
judgment of men ultimately determined by the judgment of ideas? But what distinguishes
theoretical research from practical jurisprudence is that in the general pursuit of
knowledge, the trial never comes to an end, so faith is never really endangered. Even so,
one is duty bound to keep track of developments as they occur, and not just shut ones
mind: there are almost always valuable lessons to be learned.
b.

For the secular.

The challenges for the secular are different. It is all too easy to be moved by an
anti-religious prejudice, which, as much as a pro-religious prejudice, may distort ones
perceptions and conceptions of truth, through the desire to be unbound by the restrictions
and duties which religion may eventually impose on one. Often, the secular thinker, much
as the religious one, is subject to unadmitted subconscious motivations, and uses the forms
of scientific thinking but without its essential spirit, to arrive at preferred results which
serve to justify desires. What is needed in such case is introspective lucidity and honesty.
For the secular, as for the religious, the basic epistemological requirement is attitudinal.
In certain academic circles, a distinction is made between apologetic works and
critical works. An apology for religious beliefs is usually rejected offhand by secular
academics, without serious consideration or evaluation, as inherently biased and
unscientific, whether traditional (old) or original (new). For their part, religious people
usually avoid critical voices and writings, sensing in them provocation and unfair
negativity. One could equally well view apologetic works as critical of secular trends,
and critical works as apologies for atheism and immoralities. From the point of view of
philosophy, atheism is as problematic as religious belief: given ordinary cognitive means,
neither is capable of absolute proof or disproof. Making intimidating accusations, one way
or the other, does not serve the cause of knowledge.

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

101

The scientific mind, in the broadest and purest sense of the term which refers to any
attentive, logical and intelligent pursuit of knowledge, is scrupulously fair. Fairness, or
evenhandedness, is considering all theses with equal care, if not enthusiasm. A secular
thinker is duty-bound to take into consideration the apologetic explanations of the
religious, and a religious thinker likewise for the criticisms and doubts and proposals of the
secular. If one is presented with two or more hypotheses, they must all be equally carefully
analyzed and tested within the widest possible framework of thought and knowledgecontext90. One may not just concentrate ones own pet theories, and ignore or put-down all
others offhand. At least, if one is content to pursue ones own specialized studies, one
should not comment negatively on others fields; but mutual communication and
transparent integration is preferable.
In both cases, the religious and the secular, the basic epistemological error is that of
rushing to judgment. The religious, faced with criticism, rush to judgment and condemn
the speaker in their fear that their faith will be shaken, if not shattered; it is hard to be
religious (or anything which calls for sustained discipline) without firm certainties and
deep enthusiasm, one doesnt get far. The secular, faced with apologetics, yawn with
boredom or get cold with hostility; their mind is usually made-up already, final judgment
was passed long ago. Of course, each side would claim that its judgment was quick rather
than rushed; quick - as when one quickly spots the errors in a stupid or ignorant thesis.
The error of the religious is to forget the infinity of knowledge: new data, new
insights, may always eventually reverse previously held secular beliefs. As for the secular,
they forget that a proposition which seems far-fetched and unlikely may still in the end turn
out to be true; a low probability is still a probability. These are essentially one and the
same error, which calls for an effort to keep going however things look to be thus far.
Knowledge, all knowledge, knowledge of truth, requires observational skill, logical
powers, and a great deal of imagination; but, most of all it requires the right mental
attitudes: intellectual honesty and intellectual courage, i.e. intellectual integrity. Whatever
ones technical abilities or intelligence, it is ultimately ones will to truth that counts most,
and for that openness, patience, and plain hard work are necessary. Knowledge is not the
mere manipulation of data, ideas or symbols, but primarily a moral act. If its goal is
superiority or privilege, it will soon transmute plausible reasoning into a whitewash job
or a hatchet job. Knowledge as a sword, as source of power and authority, is not true
knowledge. True knowledge is free, yet altogether sustained by a moral will; it has no
credibility otherwise, descending to the level of ideology and slogan.
Most of all, for any individual, what the pursuit of truth requires is a personal
commitment to realism: the conviction that facts are facts, that wishing they were
otherwise or turning ones eyes from them will in no wise change them. If something I
believe in, whether of spiritual significance or whatever, is at all false, I want to be the first
to know it; ignorance is not bliss, or not a very respectable form of bliss.
Realism demands transparency (glasnost in modern parlance); for problems to be
solved, they must be brought out into the open and consciously dealt with, rather than
waved-off or covered-up. And having come face to face with the difficulties, one should
not respond to them with panic, assuming the worst, throwing the baby out with the bath90

To give an example, an archeologist finding mention or pictorial suggestion of the Adam

and Eve story or of the Flood story in cultures preceding the Torah would be wrong to infer that the
Torah versions of these stories are derived from those other cultures. The Torah nowhere denies
that peoples other than the Hebrews may have remembered those events, and it is quite
conceivable that the memory was carried by many different families.

102

JUDAIC LOGIC

water; but coolly, considering the pros and cons with a level-head, looking for credible
resolutions.
It should be noted that the basic issue is not tradition versus change, but thought versus
thoughtlessness. Whereas in the old days, conformism rhymed with immobilism, nowadays,
especially in America, it rhymes more with trendism. Before, people would unthinkingly submit to
institutional authorities, nowadays they unthinkingly follow, hither and thither, slick, mediagenerated, flavor-of-the-month panaceas. Todays population, for all its veneer of freedom from
authority, is really little different from yesterdays.

2.

About Revision.

Of course, there is no denying it, the word critical need not have a pejorative
sense, connoting bias, but may signify a commendable refusal to be fooled or misled. And,
indeed, apologetics (especially, youll concede, those of another religion or sect than your
own!) are often, if not in most cases, artificial constructions, whose purpose is very
obviously to give a mere illusion of explanation or proof, and bypass problems or sweep
them under the carpet.
It must be admitted in this context that a decision-maker in Jewish law (as probably
in any other religions law), as well as any scholar or student in the field, may allow his
judgment to be distorted in various ways. The possibility of such distortions does not imply
that they occur in all cases, or ever; but it is well to be aware of these possibilities, anyway,
in the name of honesty.
a.
The first issue is ones scale of values. In religion, factual truth, whether in
matters of principle or with regard to the historicity of stories, is not necessarily the
paramount value. One may well consider that playing some fancy role or making a certain
pious statement will advance the cause of the religion, and uphold that pose without having
evaluated its factual truth or, worse still, while vaguely and subconsciously aware that it is
questionable or even tenuous. The problem here is that the religious frequently confuse
good with true, or more precisely, they believe that what seems to them good has got
to be true; and accordingly dismiss as false any idea which seems to them bad.
Such a premise is unfortunately epistemologically unsustainable, for it is
impossible to predict at what stage of its development truth intersects with goodness; the
event may not occur at a superficial level, but may actualize in a much later stage of the
proceedings. Some truths are at first unsavory, but later one realizes the depth and maturity
they taught us, and the improvements in ones character they caused in us, as well as the
broader and more accurate world-view they generated in one. Conversely, simple faith or
rigid fanaticism may give one an initial aura of moral achievement, but in the long run their
only residue may be a stifled mind out of contact with reality, a rigid person, a wasted life.
b.
Another pitfall is that of oneupmanship (in French, la surenchre). In order
to be accepted, respected or admired by ones peers, one may rather easily judge issues
with a leaning towards severity (or, more rarely, leniency). In Judaism, the more difficult
your level of observance, the more virtuous you seem91. The ability to judge leniently is a
91

I found a good example of this oneupmanship in Bergman (p. 120), who describes R.
Eliahu Mizrachi as amazed that Rashi initiates a certain interpretation, with reference to Num. 30:2,
and quotes the former as saying: '...since only the Sages of the Mishnah, who received these
explanations as traditions, are authorized to do so and no one else, not even the early Geonim, and

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

103

luxury permitted only at the higher levels of the hierarchy, when your severity credentials
are well established, and you can now afford the snobbery of emulating Hillel, adding
further veneer to your appearance of virtue.
Whereas in the preceding issue (scale of values) the error may stem from excessive
idealism, in the case of oneupmanship the motive is essentially more selfish. It is a very
human desire to fit in socially and climb the social ladder, under the guise of spiritual
responsibility and spiritual pursuit. It is selfish, because, by imposing on other people
unrealistic norms of behaviour, it may cause them serious hardships. The problem is
inherent to a closed system of knowledge like Judaism (but not only Judaism): the only
way to really have an impact within it, is literally to add to it, which means for the most
part to make it still more stern, since all relaxation may be viewed as a retreat, and as
evidence of personal decadence. The intellectual who wants to flex his mental muscles in
public within the system is therefore virtually bound to engage in oneupmanship!
I like to think that all responsible and sincere Jewish decision-makers were and are
aware of such pitfalls, and had and have the power of introspection and psychological
acuity needed to avoid them. These are probably in the majority, granting that you cant
fool all the people all of the time. Still, perhaps some fail to avoid them. But we must also
admit that unorthodox Jewish religious thinkers (Conservative, Reform, etc.), and likewise
secularist thinkers, are equally subject to similar pitfalls, though in opposite directions, and
also need to look into their own souls and consider their own motives and honesty. In all
fairness, some of those also perhaps fail to avoid distortions.
The reader should not be one-sided in his scrutiny and evaluation, but see that
fallacious and shallow thinking is found in all camps92.
In any case, I say: truthfulness is a mark of human dignity and decency. There is, in
normal circumstances, no beauty, no purity and innocence, no saintliness, no honour, no
kindness, in faking truth. There are always people around for whom truth is not an absolute
and not an indispensable value. They will twist facts or stretch inferences, invent legends
and make myths, coat their lies with sugar, misuse their credit, or passively accept such
behaviour from others, for all sorts of motives, positive or negative, noble or depraved,
none of them nice.
Vain ego-trips, selfish willingness to sacrifice others for ones ends, the refusal to
acknowledge ones errors and admit facts or uncertainties, the willingness to draw
unwarranted conclusions from doubtful data, wishful thinking, blinding oneself and
blinding others, weakness of character, conformism or cowardice, the inability to say no!
or enough! for fear of rejection or yes! for fear of the action-obligations implied - these
are some of the human, all too human possibilities in every camp, the strictly or weakly
religious, the Jewish or non-Jewish, the non-religious or anti-religious, the educated or
uninformed, wherever.
How do I know these things? Simply because I have often caught myself doing
them or tempted to do them. No one has a monopoly on intellectual virtue or vice; we must
all always try to be careful.
certainly not their successors.' The way I see it, these men are riding on Rashi's solid reputation as
an orthodox commentator, and establishing their own credentials by criticizing him for insufficient
commitment. In the case of R. Mizrachi, the attack is 'original'; in the case of R. Bergman, it is just
an echo: but for both the psychology and social goal is the same.
92
A book I enjoyed recently and recommend, concerning the specific field of Bible study was
Exegetical Fallacies; it is written by a Christian scholar, D. A. Carson, and refers mainly to the
Christian Bible, but his remarks are incisive and of general value, showing many of the errors both
would-be defenders and would-be critics of Scriptures can commit.

104

JUDAIC LOGIC

One can well see why most Rabbis (Maimonides was a notable exception, but his
efforts in this respect have not been generally appreciated, to say the least), have such a
fierce antipathy to philosophy. Their reaction to it is very similar to their reaction to
physical nudity or to immodest sexuality. No holds barred rational reflection bares all the
faults and weaknesses of dogmas, and tends to shatter faith. In their view, doctrines may be
subjected to a certain amount of scrutiny; but there are limits to respect.
For all that has been said so far might well be cheerfully admitted (in principle,
though perhaps not always in deed) by wholly-secular thinkers, or by reform-minded
religious ones; but frankly it would hardly be accepted with all its implications by the less
modern-minded orthodox religious establishment. Because the implications are clearly that
some past Rabbinical decisions may have been faulty or weak. This does not tally with the
veneration they are all held in, which effectively credits them with a sort of unassailable
infallibility.
The explanation put forward to counter such inferences is that the religious leaders
of the past were beneficiaries of a privileged level of consciousness, with the capacity for
insight into percepts, concepts and logical relationships, inaccessible with ordinary
cognitive means. In Biblical days, this was hanevuah, prophecy (at various levels); in
Talmudic times, it was ruach haqodesh, translated as the holy spirit (also considered as
having various degrees); and thereafter, a more prosaic but still Divinely-favoured
intellectual acuity, reserved for the pure and obtained by deep study of the Talmud, call it
chokhmah, wisdom.
Thus broadly put, the explanation is effective, because it changes the equation
considerably. A new epistemological factor is thereby introduced into the discussion. The
criticisms previously considered were applicable under the assumption that normal
perceptual, conceptual and logical cognitive equipment are the common lot of all humans,
though their database and intelligence may vary; and therefore that all are subject to the
same methodological pitfalls, and are to be evaluated in their judgments by uniform
standards. If, now, this assumption is open to doubt, anything goes.
Let us both attack and defend this viewpoint. It is not in principle inconceivable
(we can refer to variations in levels of consciousness in the animal world); it is just
difficult to define, delimit, and demonstrate. Anyone might claim a privileged or
supernatural consciousness, and indeed adherents of many religions (not just Judaism) do
and have done so: how should an individual without similar claim know whom to believe?
There is no conceivable standard, other than strictly checking explicit predictions; this may
apply to precise concrete events, but many abstract pronouncements are broad-ranging and
unverifiable.
Furthermore, in Judaism (at least) the recipients of such special dispensation
(prophets and sages) are all placed far in the past: out of reach of any present verification
of their historicity or of the historicity, timeliness and exactitude of their pronouncements,
safe from any controlled experiment. It is all too easy to project whatever one wishes into
the past, to ex post facto reorder events as one sees fit, to invent legends, to find in
subsequent events the concrete realization of vague and ambiguous earlier predictions.
How reliable are word-of-mouth or even written traditions, anyway? Witnesses, even
assuming they witnessed something, may have been gullible, superstitious, easily fooled,
because lacking scientific methods and knowledge.
Let me make this clearer. We have, here, a theory that there are two categories of
knower: the Divinely-inspired, like Moshe Rabbenu (to take an extreme case), and the
common, uninspired Jew (among others). For a man like Moshe, the epistemological

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

105

problem of Revelation is simple enough: being a present and direct recipient, he has only
to have faith that what he has heard/seen was indeed the word of God; and supposedly that
attribute of the message is convincingly carried within it, as an inherent and
undissociatable component of it. (Of course, we may well say that Moses must have earned
this great gift, just as we say that a man born rich must have had good karma.)
But for the common Jew, who may sincerely try to think things through, the issues
are honestly much more complex: his source of knowledge is indirect, just hearsay; he has
not himself experienced God, nor any phenomena he can identify unequivocally as
communications from God; living long after the Sinai events, he has no proof other than a
document (the written Torah) and a tradition (the oral and written culture surrounding the
Torah) that these events ever took place, that Moshe ever existed, and even if so that the
subsequent transmission of the data and the interpretations by umpteen generations of
teachers was accurate, and neither distorted, nor censored, nor amplified.
Thus radically distancing oneself from the issues, one can well see how difficult is
the common lot of human beings in the matter of religious faith. People who in all humility
have trouble believing in anything might well be excused, with much understanding and
compassion. And even those who need to and are willing to believe, are presented with
very difficult choices between competing scenarios and alternative doctrines; it is hard to
blame them if they betted on the wrong choice of faith, and it is frankly difficult to
believe that they could justly be damned for it. And as for those who made the right
choice of faith, whatever that be, they are surely highly to be praised, for their
epistemological task was much more difficult than the task of anyone who has been
blessed with inspiration.
Past Rabbinical deciders (poskim) are claimed today to be effectively infallible, if
not implicitly omniscient, and there are supports for this view in the Talmud itself. But this
claim does not seem compatible with the differences of opinion between these deciders
recorded throughout the same document, and through later history. A general principle is
enunciated, to the effect that these and those are words of the Living God (elu vaelu divrei
Elokim Hayim); and that the Torah has seventy facets, all equally true even though
seemingly contradictory. But such a statement is more an expression of faith, than a
detailed practical solution to the evident problem: some Rabbis won the debate, some lost:
that is fact.
How to evaluate the defeats? Was it perhaps a momentary breakdown of privileged
consciousness; in which case, how come the Rabbis concerned were not aware of this
breakdown, and continued to maintain their erroneous positions? If they could not tell the
difference, how could they claim privileged consciousness at all; and if they knew their
positions erroneous, what was their game in maintaining them? In truth, the inductive,
rather than mystically privileged, nature of their thought and debate is very evident.
But the critique can be pushed further: there are cases where errors surface much
later. Consider, for instance, the Midrashic claim that there are ten a-fortiori arguments in
the Tanakh; or its claim that the sex of children is unknowable before their birth. For close
to two thousand years, such pronouncements were claimed to be infallible. Now we find
that there are more than ten a-fortiori arguments in the Tanakh, or that modern medicine
can predict gender93. Sure, we can always try to water-down the original statements to
make them more or less compatible with new findings, one way or another; but the fact
93

Currently through 'echography', if I am not mistaken; but more sophisticated methods are
on the way.

106

JUDAIC LOGIC

remains that for a score of centuries they were taken literally by countless Rabbis! What
then happens to their credibility?
However, if now we take the revisionist94 position that the issue need not be all
or nothing, and accept reluctantly that some Talmudic and Rabbinical (and even, more
extremely, Biblical) statements may be erroneous: where do we draw the line? If we do not
admit everything, must we perforce reject everything? Perhaps it suffices to say
(cautiously, generously): admit whatever is received from tradition, until and unless it is
proved wrong and must be rejected. We actually find examples of this approach in
Rabbinical discussion95.
This is, after all, the way with empirico-rational research: appearances are
accepted as reality, until if ever they are shown to be illusory. We do not reject all
knowledge just because some of it has turned out to be wrong after being long believed in.
That would be self-contradictory, because it would require rejection of the rejection.
Therefore, it is axiomatic that some knowledge is right, though that axiom does not specify
just which. However, in the case of specifically religious knowledge, no such clear-cut
epistemological axiom can be constructed.
Our only appeal, it seems to me (and many people throughout history and in all cultures
have had a similar impression), can be to the insistent intuition that the existence of Existence as
such, of a World, of the complexities of Matter, Life and Consciousness, is an utter surprise
(sometimes mixed with joy, sometimes with dismay), an ineffable and unfathomable mystery, which
can only be somewhat toned-down to our satisfaction by the assumption of God, even though such
an assumption itself posits even greater mystification.
And once God is thus acknowledged, then the attente for a communication of some sort
from Him, an explanation and a guidance, if not individually then collectively, by whatever means,
would seem necessary and inevitable. To me, at least; that some people lack such expectation would
not prove its vanity, for not all people stop and reflect much, and even those who do might well be
moved by incidental considerations. This expectation and need in turn opens human beings to
religion, all sorts of religions; and here, their ways part to varying degrees, and the epistemological
issues multiply. Some thinkers answer them enthusiastically, some skeptically, some carefully.

Even if anyone seemingly settled some of the issues, what would be achieved? No
more than one more religion, one more sect. Some people would become more religious or
less religious, this way or that way. But certainly (contra Nietzsche) religion will never
die; there will always be Jews and others who uphold religious beliefs. And likewise, the
spirit of independent thought, which is one of the aspects of human greatness, will surely
live on; and people will continue to ask questions and do research.
In any event, no side can or should, cavalier fashion, ignore or dismiss the other(s),
or be satisfied with a preconceived and shallow traditionalism or modernism. And it is
good that the debate continues, with mutual tolerance and respect, because it is a dialectic
of value to all, reflecting the psyche and destiny of humankind.
94

It should be clear that I use this word quite innocently, without intending any political
connotation (with reference to Zionism, or to Holocaust History).
95
An example of such inductive change is given by Mendell Lewittes, in Principles and
Development of Jewish Law: "after quoting statements of Rashi and Tosafot, he [Moshe Sofer,
known as the "Hatam Sofer", a major Halakhic authority, 1762-1839] writes, 'all this was said only
according to their understanding (of the process of menstruation). However, begging their pardon,
they are not correct in what they say, for the truth is... according to the scholars and surgical
books... and I have in front of me other books from expert physicians who are not Jewish.'" (italics
mine). That 'begging their pardon', by the way, is a reflection of the intimidation weighing on him,
his fear of rejection for unfettered thought; yet he had the integrity to pursue truth and add 'but they
are not correct, etc.'

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

107

Knowing all this, and having said all this, I do not think that any final and thorough
resolution of the big issues is ever possible, one way or the other. The task is impossible:
nothing much can be firmly proved or disproved. Nothing much is ever likely to change at
the level of deep theoretical questions. In practice, everyone must still always make a
personal choice, and take a gamble on one doctrine or another, be it a belief-system or a
pattern of behavior. Yes or no, this or that, day by day or in gradual or sudden ways, choice
is inescapable. In any case, ultimately, choices are made more with existential
considerations than on theoretical grounds.
So let us remain content, I say, with a simple faith (constant, but devoid of arrogant
pretensions), and enjoy the (doubtlessly very limited) illuminations stemming from
questions and investigations in pursuit of truth.

3.

Changes in the Law.

The Judaic tradition, which includes the Halakhah (strict law, the unvarying core
of Jewish law), the minhagim (subcultural law, varying from community to community),
and the Hagadah (non-legal stories and explanations), tries to make room for and fit in
every statement and interpretation made by all the influential Rabbis. If such a Rabbi
contradicts himself, or another equally important Rabbi, all the propositions involved are
given credit, and viewed as different aspects of the tradition.
It is all claimed to be Torah, leMoshe miSinai, passed on orally if not in writing.
Yet this claim is gently balanced and toned-down by the paradoxical story of Moshe
Rabbenu being momentarily transported to the time of R. Akiba, and sitting at the back of
one of the latters classes, and not recognizing or fully understanding what is being taught,
even though it is all being presented as a faithful transmission of Moshes teachings.
But the tradition has a history, which can be traced to some extent, and this history
displays change - laws added, laws removed, laws changed, new minhagim, extinct
minhagim, new texts, new influences, lost texts, extant texts losing their influence, new
interpretations, new viewpoints, people no longer convinced by certain claims or
explanations, people with new values and emotions unmoved by past arguments or
appeals, and so forth.
Can one honestly maintain that this near-infinity of data was already actual, if only
orally, at Sinai? It is not inconceivable, since: (a) supernatural means of data acquisition
and transmission are not excluded, and (b) a whole people, that is a culture, was involved,
and (c) what is possible now was possible then (though todays collective memory is
mostly in writing, whereas in those days it was mostly not so). But it does not seem to us
very likely, given the historical facts as we know them.
Granting the existence of real change in Jewish law, evidently some of it has been
in the direction of leniency (e.g. the prosbol or the interruption of Temple sacrifice), and
some in the direction of severity (e.g. the abolition of male polygamy or the increased
volume of daily prayers). With regard to changes in the direction of leniency, some
religious people might well regret them, and even yearn for more restrictions and duties,
regarding them as opportunities for performing mitzvot, i.e. for serving God. But frankly
most people nowadays would rather feel relief at any lightening of the burden, and
furthermore look askance on any changes in the direction of severity.

108

JUDAIC LOGIC

From a philosophical perspective, one might wonder at such change, even in a

changing world. Is it a change in the price of heaven? Perhaps some generations are further
away and have to pay more to get up there. Is it alternatively a difference in mission?
Perhaps some generations are weaker, and therefore can be entrusted only with a relatively
low responsibility.
Whatever the reason for it, such change is clearly not inconceivable. There is no
logical reason why the law has to be immutable, just as there is no logical reason why all
creatures or all peoples or all individuals have to be subject to the same law. The formal
logic of ethical propositions allows for all quantities (general, particular, singular) and all
modalities (unconditional, conditional; constant/permanent, occasional/temporary). It sets
no preconceived standard of universality and invariability.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

109

8. INITIAL IMPRESSIONS.

In this chapter, we shall make some preliminary, general comparisons between

some of the propositional forms and logical processes used in Biblical, Talmudic and
Rabbinic literature, and those found in modern, secular scientific thought96.
But note well that these initial reflections were written before engaging in formal
analysis of hermeneutic principles. The latter analysis, as we shall see in subsequent
chapters, considerably changes our perspective97.

1.

Methods and Contents.

The present study relates primarily to issues of method, and not to issues of content.
Our focus is not philosophical, in the sense of metaphysical, nor scientific, in the sense of
relating to special sciences like cosmology, biology or history. Our approach is rather
epistemological, to compare the methodological aspects of religion and science, and take
note of similarities and differences.
The traditional view of the development of Jewish law, which we traced briefly in
the opening chapter, suggests that it is mainly a deductive enterprise. The laws were
derived from the Torah, which was revealed by God through Moses to the Children of
Israel at Sinai. These laws were either explicitly given in the revelation, mostly in writing,
partly orally, and then faithfully transmitted; or later inferred in accordance with strict
hermeneutic rules, by the religious authorities charged with this responsibility in direct line
since Moses.
We are not (to my knowledge) told by Jewish tradition precisely how the first Sefer
Torah (physical scroll of the Law) was written.98
Did God orally dictate it all word by word to Moses, and if so, out loud or in his head? Or
did God visually display text for Moses to copy down, and if so, externally or internally? Or did God
take control of Moses hand directly, without passing the message through his mind and asking him
to transcribe it? The latter hypothesis seems more likely, at least in certain passages about Moses,
such as those which declare him the humblest of men. The hypotheses of dictation are suggested by
Biblical passages like Exod. 17:14, write this... in the book, though one may wonder why such
96

Using the terms "secular" and "scientific", here, without implying such thought to be at the
outset or inevitably anti-religious (secularist). We may include under the same broad category, not
only the natural sciences and history, but also philosophy at its best (not all philosophy is well
thought out; however, most philosophy has a contribution to make, however inarticulately
expressed), and any aspects of the humanities which obviously qualify.
97
The present essay's general conclusions are rather over-optimistic; but the specifics on
which it bases such conclusions are essentially correct.
98
See Lewittes, p. 35. He quotes the Rambam as saying "... though exactly by what method
is known only to the recipient, Moses." In the Talmud, Gittin 60a, two possibilities are floated, one,
that Moses wrote the Torah down when it was communicated to him, another, that he memorized it
and wrote it all at the end of his career.

110

JUDAIC LOGIC
orders would have been given in specific cases if they were the general rule99; video display is
suggested by, e.g., Exod. 25:40.
In any case, the Torah must be entirely from God, to be authoritative; we cannot suspect some
unspecified parts of it to have been authored by humans, whether Moses or any other(s), without
Divine origin and control.
With regard to the issue of the writing of the Torah, a distinction ought to be drawn
between the time of events and the time of narrating of the events. Reading the stories, one is
normally too absorbed to reflect that they were probably not written at the time they occurred.
Obviously, there were action situations during which Moses was too busy to write reports; he must
have written them later, under some sort of Divine control (preferably - since human memory is
always selective). Even where we read that God spoke to Moses to communicate laws (e.g. Lev.
1:1), we may wonder whether Moses was writing that down as it was happening or he wrote it ex
post facto.

An attempt at epistemological rationale of Jewish law would run as follows. What

is Divinely revealed is indubitably true, because God is omnipotent, omniscient and
saintly; and what is tightly inferred from such data by holy and wholly committed men,
such as the Jewish Sages, is also without doubt true. Such laws are therefore immutable,
not open to doubt or review by later religious authorities or lay thinkers. Let us now briefly
consider the strengths and weaknesses of such a rationale.
First, some comments in defense of the concept of revelation. What in principle
gives revealed truth its apodictic, absolutely certain, character, is that it is proposed to us
by a Being, God, who is the Creator of all reality (including objective values, as well as
neutral facts), and therefore all-knowing (having created whatever He wished to,
consciously, knowing exactly what He was doing and why He did it), and who is perfect in
morality (having freely invented it and desired it), and therefore completely honest and
trustworthy (wanting to persuade us, not manipulate us). These are, to be sure, not
arguments, but concepts included in or implied by the Torah revelation itself, to be taken
on faith; however, their significance is their ability to fit into the concept of logical
necessity.
As we saw in the opening chapter, a proposition is logically necessary, if it appears
as true in all knowledge contexts. There are only two conceivable ways that such modality
may occur: either by its having a contradictory which is immediately evidently selfcontradictory; or by being apprehended as evident within every knowledge context which
can ever arise. The former kind of insight is in the power of all human beings, although
their cognitive faculties have natural limits; and it makes possible the firm foundation of
secular knowledge (science). The latter kind of insight is obviously not within our grasp,
but it would be accessible to an all-encompassing consciousness, such as Gods; whence
the significance of the omniscience of God to revealed religion. The difficulty in this
rationale is that we humans have no prior knowledge of God, except through the
revelation, and therefore we cannot logically justify the revelation without circularity, but
must always ultimately rely on faith.
As for the second part of the rationale of Jewish status quo, namely the implied
infallibility of the Talmudic Sages and later religious authorities, the justification given is
essentially that, by virtue of their unswerving obedience of the law in practice, these people
were favoured by God with special help in their pursuit of truth, help which very few since
then have deserved; hence, no review of their conclusions by anyone is ever possible.
Reflecting on the miraculous wonder of consciousness as such, and acknowledging the
99

A. Ibn Ezra suggests this specific order may have referred to the Book of the Wars of the
Lord, rather than the Book of Torah (Cohen, p. 433).

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

111

existence of Providence, it is easy to realize that all knowledge is a gift from God. In this
perspective, when even the scientific knower is a passive recipient, the idea that some
people might be subject to additional grace, and receive special inspiration in their pursuit
of religious knowledge, does not seem far-fetched. Nevertheless, here again, there are
logical circularities, and we must view the statements made as expressions of faith, rather
than pure reasoning. The difficulty is of course that similar claims can be, and indeed
historically have been, made by other people, even people in other religions.
In contrast to religion, natural science is primarily an inductive enterprise. That is, it relies
heavily on empirical evidence, from which it derives general statements by trial and error methods,
like generalization and particularization, and adduction, making imaginative theories and testing
them - methods in which the role of deduction, though very important, is still relatively secondary.
Faced with a world of appearances, which often conflict with each other and change, the scientist100
is simply a human being trying his or her best to understand and make sense of things. Not having
been made privy to any whispered game plan, even the methodological tools scientists rely on, have
had to be evolved inductively, starting from intuitive notions which gradually in an ever larger
context have demonstrated their reliability.
In such an approach to knowledge, all appeal to Divine inspiration has been eschewed, and
all researchers are therefore on equal footing with respect to the need to provide convincing
evidence and arguments for their claims. No one has unshakable authority, however deservedly
respected in his or her time for great discoveries and ideas of genius101. There is no good old wine,
or rather origin and age are beside the point. Newer truths are more reliable than older ones, insofar
as they take into consideration not only the data on which preceding beliefs were based, but also
more recent discoveries and insights. We are not attached to some perfect past, but on the contrary,
full knowledge is projected to be in a distant future, something to which we can only tend but which
we can never expect to fully reach.
Since the data base of experience is constantly changing and growing, and new insights and
ideas are always conceivable, we must always in principle be ready and willing to review our beliefs
and belief-systems, however certain they seem at any given time. This does not imply anarchy or
working in a vacuum; there is intellectual and cultural continuity and changes are achieved over time
and through collective efforts. Still, every proposition is ultimately no more than a theory, a working
hypothesis, valid only so long as it is not overturned by another, more informative and consistent
proposition. A scientific world-view might be abandoned in one swoop, if only and as soon as
another has been found which is reasonably more convincing and fruitful - and this has occurred
often enough.

As we shall see, the above contrast of the methods of religion and science, as
respectively deductive and inductive, has some truth and justification; but it emphasizes
differences, some of which are superficial, without paying due attention to many
similarities.
But, before going further with the issues of method, a few comments are worth
making with respect to issues of content. A comparison of the specific contents of Torah
and Science is not our subject-matter, here; readers interested in that are referred to
specialized literature102. Much has been written and continues to be written, comparing the

100

The ideal scientist, if you prefer.

When we support or reject an idea, only with regard to the person(s) formulating it, without
regard to its coherence and cogency, we are committing the logical fallacy of ad hominem. (Some
reserve the expression for the negative case, preferring ad verecundiam for the positive case; but
there is no essential difference, in my view.)
102
For instances, see Schroeder or Kelemen. See also Appendix 2 for additional comments.
101

112

JUDAIC LOGIC

claims of the Jewish religion and those of natural science. Such comparisons usually refer
to cosmogony103, cosmography104, biology105 or history106.
Such comparative studies will, according to the ideology and information of the
writer - either seek to contrast religion and science, and reject the one or resist the other; or
to reconcile the two, by means of some reinterpretation in more metaphoric terms of
certain claims of religion, or by showing the essential compatibility of specific religious
claims with current scientific views, or by demonstrating the continuing uncertainties in the
scientific positions under scrutiny.
The Torah itself contains various factual information; some of it concerns human
history, some is about nature, and some is more metaphysical107. With regard to history for instances, the common origin of all peoples (the Adam and Eve story), their subdivision
into linguistic groups (the Tower of Babel story), the time and circumstances of the Exodus
from Egypt and entry of the Children of Israel into the Holy Land, and so on. With regard
to nature - for instances, the age of the world or data on the physiology of certain animals
or the psychology of human beings. With regard to metaphysics - we may mention
information like the existence of God, His names, His attributes, powers and acts, like His
unity, primacy, supremacy, His justice and mercy, His authorship of the universe and open
or hidden providential interference in human affairs, and so forth.
Similarly, for the rest of the Bible, the Talmud and other Rabbinic writings. In the
legal debates of the Talmud, the Rabbis often make factual claims, which may be historical
or natural as well as metaphysical, to justify their positions. For instance, in Yom Tov 2b,
Rabbah claims that an egg is always fully developed a day before it is laid; for him this is
obvious, because it is required as a logical precondition of the law he defends108. In effect,
laws handed down by a tradition may be certain enough to infer even plainly physical or
biological fact from them109.
It should be noted in passing that much of the Jewish religions view of the world, natural
and supernatural, is built on this mode of thought: i.e. projecting attributes of the world from laws
(or even, eventually, just traditions). The latter serve effectively as empirical data from which a
world-view is cumulatively developed; they constitute springboards and boundaries for non-legal
theories. But such theories must be considered speculative, to the extent that they ignore, or
contradict, the data of natural cognition.
103

e.g. Comparing the Biblical account of Creation, apparently in 7 days, 5754 years ago, with
the Big Bang scenario, 15 billion years ago.
104
e.g. Comparing the seeming Biblical view of the Earth as the main theater of the universal
drama, and the empirical evidence that our planet is without centrality in its own solar system, or
even galaxy, and a mere speck of dust in an enormous universe. Actually, this issue seems to have
been a burning issue at the time of Galileo, but today seems irrelevant, except perhaps to people
attached to the qabalistic notions of 'heavenly spheres' built on the Ptolemaic model of the universe
(actually several hundred years more ancient than Ptolemaeus, being found in Plato and Aristotle).
105
e.g. What is the nature of life, is it material or spiritual? And what are the origins, ages, and
evolutionary courses, if any, of living species?
106
e.g. Comparing the stories and dates given in the Bible and subsequent tradition, with the
findings of archaeology and the scenarios they suggest.
107
History is of course an aspect of nature, insofar as we humans belong to this world;
however, what philosophically distinguishes historical processes from other natural processes, is
the role played in the former by human freewill; methodologically, differences are due to the
peculiar intimacy, singularity and temporal distance of most historical facts, which makes most
accounts of them largely conjectural, whereas natural facts are generally more easily verifiable.
Metaphysics can similarly be analyzed with regard to its distinctions from the natural sciences.
108
Namely, the prohibition to eat an egg laid on a holy day.
109
In the example here given, the concept of full development of an egg is sufficiently vague
and ambiguous to be unverifiable. A better example should be found.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

113

Now, in the event of disagreements between religion and science with regard to
natural or historical facts, we are of course faced with a problem, which must eventually
somehow or other be solved, if we want to have a consistent body of knowledge. It would
be dishonest to ignore such discrepancies; but on the other hand, it would be naive to
expect to resolve them all convincingly or to make overly severe judgments when they
cannot be. We must leave room for doubt and even mystery110. With regard to metaphysical
facts, like the supreme sovereignty of God, these are to a large extent inaccessible to
normal empirical evaluation; we can only speculate concerning them, if we have not been
gifted with special states of consciousness or Divine revelation.
In any event, the traditional view is that the Torah, as its name attests, is essentially
a legal document. Factual data in it, concerning history or nature, is incidental, providing a
context for the understanding of the law. As for information about God, it provides a
justification and rationale for the law, suggesting the existence of a moral order in the
universe. But the essential message is the law. Thus, the content of such a religious
document is primarily normative, rather than descriptive. Its role is to prescribe or
proscribe, or allow and exempt, or leave to individual choice, specific acts of human
behaviour111. Within such a perspective, it may matter little what the date of Creation might
be, or whether humans evolved from animals, and Biblical passages relating to such
matters need not be taken literally112.
In contrast, the content of science is overwhelmingly descriptive; it tends to deliberately
avoid normative issues. Its goal is to get at the facts - to provide humankind with a neutral
database, allowing us to make informed choices and providing us with intellectual and material
tools to carry them out effectively. Judgments of value are regarded as a separate problem, the
concern of ethical philosophy or religion. The ambition of science is only to know the way things
are (or at least, how they appear to us to be), which includes certain forms of explanation (our
answers to why things are as they are, are themselves further descriptions, with reference to
wider or deeper abstractions or yet more removed causal factors). With regard to the way things
should be, science is modestly silent113.
Furthermore, the founders of modern science deliberately chose to bypass metaphysical
issues. The idea of God was, as it were, put between parentheses. There were political reasons for
this: the Church a few hundred years ago had the power to persecute those with ideas it considered
threatening, and often used that power. The interests of the scientists were in any case secular and
material; they did not mind leaving religious and spiritual issues to specialists. But also, they
realized that such issues were ultimately unresolvable, and they did not want to get bogged down

110

In any case, as already indicated, such harmonizations are not within the scope of the
present work.
111
Note that Torah laws are regarded by Judaism as binding on their subjects, whereas the
concept of "norms" is generally understood more broadly, as including the gentle advice of wisdom.
112
Difficulty arises due to the reasoning that if the Bible is not entirely literal, it cannot be
strictly-speaking considered true, and therefore one may doubt its Divine origin. However, it is also
conceivable that God wished us to find out certain less relevant or pressing matters for ourselves,
over time, by natural means (science) - and considered it enough for us to have, until then, easilygrasped token accounts of things, images and ideas designed to inspire rather than inform.
113
Of course, the normative data which are the main concern of religion are ultimately as
"factual" and "descriptive", in enlarged senses of these terms, as the neutral data which interests
science. If objective values exist, decreed by the Creator, they are effectively "inscribed in nature",
as much as other phenomena. Their ontological status is the same, though they differ
constitutionally. However, their epistemological status may be different: whereas neutral
information is known through its gradual appearance before our perceptual senses and conceptual
insight, Judaism suggests that God chose to deliver normative information to us (mostly, if not
exclusively) by special proclamation.

114

JUDAIC LOGIC
in them, but preferred to move on and deal with phenomena more accessible to empirical testing
and rational scrutiny.
Such fractionalizing of the pursuit of knowledge did not necessarily reflect a negative
attitude towards religion, but represented a legitimate strategy. The idea of God was not intended
to be permanently ignored or rejected, but was merely put on hold. Often the difficult problems we
encounter are shunted aside, and we concentrate on the easier ones, hopefully at least temporarily,
waiting for new insights and gathering more data in the interim. As the achievements of science
increased, ecclesiastics gradually came to accept, even if reluctantly, the narrowing of their
domain. In practice, the division of labor has not always been maintained - on either side. Many
believers in God and the Bible continue to have dissident opinions concerning nature and
history114, and some scientists occasionally claim their theories or findings have metaphysical or
normative implications115.

From the logical point of view, the setting of norms has always been a problem
difficult to solve. There have of course been attempts to derive ethical propositions from
emotional, psychological or sociological facts, but invariably close scrutiny reveals the
element of arbitrariness involved, the subjectivity and cultural bias underlying the
suggested norms. Many people, including many capable philosophers, conclude that
objective norms are impossible. The Jewish religion suggests that, in the normative
domain, the human faculties of cognition are inadequate because the answers to our
questions are not inscribed and made manifest in nature: there has to be an external
impulse, a credible message from God, to settle issues and provide us with standards. God,
it seems, wished to reserve access to this domain, and transmit moral guidance to us
through the words of Torah.

2.

Davqa or Lav-davqa?

In this section, we shall demonstrate, through a technical peculiarity of Talmudic

logic, that in contrast to other kinds of discourse, it is inherently oriented towards
deduction. However, we shall also begin to unveil, with reference to the exceptions to this
very same peculiarity, the strong inductive currents underlying Talmudic thought
processes.
When one compares the logical pronouncements in Talmudic and other Rabbinic
discourse to the logic apparent in common and scientific thought and discussion, an
immediately noticeable practical distinction is the different interpretation each gives to
particular propositions. This refers to sentences which are introduced by the quantifier
some, as in some swans are white.

114

Belief or disbelief in God should have no effect on the descriptive appearance of the
natural world, since one can always claim that, however the world happens to appear, it may well
have been the way He chose to make it. Conflicts between religion and science arise only in
relation to religious texts or oral traditions; and even then, the flexibility and intelligence of the
beholder count for much.
115
For examples, speculations about Creation by Big-Bang proponents, or advice given by
psychologists to their clients. But we must not forget that scientists are people, too; and like all
people, need answers to certain questions right now, to be able to run their lives. People may, even
without religion, have opinions about what is right or wrong, and correct or incorrect ideas as to
how to justify these opinions. Often, secular moral beliefs historically stem from religion, but after
being deeply ingrained in a person or culture they become independent of the religion.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

115

Normally, in everyday discourse or in science, we understand the expression

some as meaning at least some - it is indefinite about the exact quantity. Such a
statement is left open, to give us time for further investigation, which will determine
whether we may assume, for the subject-matter at hand, that the universal all is
applicable or we must assert that the contingent only some (meaning some, but not all,
or some yes and some no) is the case. These latter quantities are relatively more definite
(with regard to proportion, though not to number). In contrast, in Talmudic and related
discussions, the word some has usually got a prima facie value of only some, which
excludes the option all. It is only after much debate that sometimes, in rare cases, the
initial some is concluded to have been intended as an indefinite particular, which admits
of interpretation as all.
Particular statements taken to be contingent are said to be davqa particular; whereas
indefinite particulars, which allow for a universal as well as contingent interpretation, are
said to be lav davqa. Davqa is Aramaic116, and means thusly, or precisely thus, or
exclusively thus; lav signifies not. These expressions are not, of course, limited to the
quantifier some, but may be applied to any quantity variously interpretable; for instance,
does 10 mean exactly ten, or ten or more, or up to ten, or about ten?
Now, this difference in approach has a deep and interesting reason; it is not
accidental or merely conventional. When, say, an Amora (a Rabbi in the Gemara)
encounters a particular statement by a Tana (a Mishnaic Rabbi), or in the Torah itself, it is
a matter of course for him to interpret it, at least to begin with, as intended as davqa
some, that is, some, but not all. For it is a statement made by an intelligent being (a
Tana, in the case of the Mishnah, or God, in the case of the Torah). So he (the Amora) can
argue: Nu? if the author meant all, he would have said so! Thus, the statement may
reasonably be assumed to mean no more than what it says - that is, only some, or only
some.
In Talmudic logic, then, some X are Y (I) is taken to imply and be implied by
some X are not Y (O), because both mean no less than IO; i.e. there is here no I or O
other than in IO. This deductive rule117 holds in the large majority of cases, as the
lekhatechila (initial) position. It does happen comparatively infrequently that, after a
thorough analysis of the situation, such an ab initio assumption is found untenable, because
it leads to internal contradictions or acute disagreements between different Rabbis. In such
case, the particular, which was first taken as davqa, is bedieved (as a last resort)
downgraded to a lav davqa status (making it compatible with a corresponding general
proposition, in which case I and O are subcontrary). Here, the indefinite particular is the
result of an inductive process, an attempt to reconcile conflicting theses, to resolve a
difficulty. However, it does not retain this status long, since the whole purpose of the
process is to arrive at the corresponding general conclusion!118
116

Related to the Hebrew 2-letter root DQ, connoting minuteness, as in daq, fine dust (Isaiah,
40:15), daqah, a minute in time, and bediuq, exactly.
117
This form of inference, which is quite common in Talmudic discourse, might be called, in
English, "inference by negation"; in Latin, its name is, if I am not mistaken, a-contrario.
118
We must interpret in a similar vein statements like the following, by Guggenheimer (pp.
179, 193):
The inner logic of the Law (...) is definitely hostile to modalities... The Talmud avoids all
attempts at modal logic. Instead, we have a set of rules, known as rob (majority) and
hazaka (status quo ante) which serve to transform actual probabilities into judicial
certainties. The result of such transformation may be used in a universe of discourse in
which modalities have no place.

116

JUDAIC LOGIC

The above explains why Talmudic logic is regarded as essentially deductive. The
Talmud is built on a number of ready-made (written or oral) propositions considered to be
of Divine origin. In such a situation, a proposition of the indefinite form I or O is merely a
shorthand expression of the definite compound IO, because that is the expected inductive
result in, say (this is a wild guess), 95% of the cases to be dealt with. The raw data on
which such knowledge is based is already verbalized; the epistemological processes used
are directed towards the interpretation of this verbal raw data (expressing it in other words,
drawing inferences from it), through its internal and external integration (that is, checking
the mutual consistencies of the parts of the revelation, and its coherence with the wider
context of empirico-rational knowledge, including linguistic factors).
In contrast, in ordinary or scientific thought, there are no verbal givens, other than those
impinging on individuals from the rest of society119. Verbal knowledge is ultimately built-up from
experience, by labeling groups of similar and distinct phenomena (be they sensory or mental,
concrete or abstract). In such a framework, there are virtually no absolutes which can serve as top
principles from which the rest of knowledge may be derived; apart from a very small number of
logically self-evident axioms (whose denials would be paradoxical, that is, self-contradictory), we
have to develop knowledge very tentatively and gradually. Here, the indefinite particular forms I and
O are pressingly needed for efficient discourse, as way-stations and stepping-stones to fuller
knowledge, as already explained.

Nonetheless, our above observation does not signify that there is an unbridgeable
epistemological gap between the two logics, that of the Talmud and the common. It
should be clear from the preceding that the two systems use by and large one and the same
logic120, only their givens differ in format. That is, were they faced with equally formatted
data, their way of development would indeed be identical; but one depends largely on
verbal givens, while the other is limited to non-verbal data. It is true that their givens also
differ in source, being Divinely revealed (to some people) in one case and naturally
apparent (to everyone) in the other; but this issue affects the credibility of the initial data,
rather than the subsequent mental processes relating to assimilation of the information.
In any case, note, the two bodies of knowledge are not mutually exclusive. For a
start, religious knowledge is never totally independent of secular data; a religion may
explain the material world away, as a big illusion, but it may not completely ignore it - the
While it is true that lav davqa statements in the Talmud are left indefinite no longer than it
takes to find a davqa finale to their discussion, it is totally untrue to claim that there is no modality in
the Talmud. The very fact that distinction is made between lekhatechila and bedieved positions is
proof enough that logical modalities are involved in it. The recognition that some arguments are
strong (deductive), and some relatively weak (inductive), is further proof. But anyway, the
"transformations" mentioned in the above quotation would suffice: before a ruling is decided, it must
have been momentarily uncertain, or else it would not have been open to debate. As for natural,
temporal, extensional and especially ethical modalities - the Talmud would have been unable to
describe different situations and conditions without use of them, nor been able to make any legal
rulings. We might readily have excused Guggenheimer with reference to the widespread gap in
knowledge concerning modal logic, which he himself admits, saying: "modal logic is without
satisfactory formulation even today"; but his denial of modality is too extreme even in that context.
119
We must refer, here, to humanity as a whole since its inception, when discussing the
construction of language and knowledge from scratch; evidently, individuals today receive a great
deal of their knowledge in already verbalized form from the society around them.
120
This statement, and similar ones elsewhere in the present chapter, will have to be
considerably revised later on in the book, after formal analysis of the Rabbinic hermeneutics. For
we will thereafter discover Talmudic thought processes which can only be called 'logical' or
'inductive' by a very generous concession - but which rather deserve the labels 'pseudo-logical' and
'arbitrary'.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

117

language used by religion is understood only because it is reducible to common

experience. And since religion (certainly, the Jewish religion) admits of secular data, it also
acknowledges the inductive method which assimilates such data. But furthermore, as we
shall see, the method by which religion (at least, the Jewish) ultimately assimilates its own
peculiar data is very similar to the secular.
Secular knowledge without religious data might seem conceivable, but only if one turned a
blind eye to various otherwise burning questions - in the limit, religion is unavoidable, except by
silence, because even negative answers to such questions may be counted as effectively religious
in their own way121. With regard to methodology, the secular sciences certainly, to some degree, use
techniques found in religious study, like textual analysis, since the sciences generate texts to
communicate their results, and these texts while being written or read are subject to analysis.
Textual analysis is also used in secular contexts in relation to historical documents (literary or legal
documents, including the Bible itself). So scientists cannot object to hermeneutics as such (though
they may look askance at specific interpretative techniques).

We have seen that Talmudic logic, being more deductive than inductive, has a
preference for the davqa interpretation of particular propositions. However, we will now
show that formal logic cannot ultimately avoid recourse to lav-davqa particulars, and so
demonstrate that Talmudic logic must at least implicitly acknowledge them. The situations
implied by the forms I and O, of partial ignorance or deficient knowledge, arise again and
again in the course of all human thought - not only within inductive processes of gathering
and judging empirical data, but just as much within purely deductive processes. Indefinite
particulars are therefore indispensable if we want to be articulate.
We could, in truth, construct a formal logic with a propositional arsenal devoid of
indefinite particulars, simply by explicitly expressing our position in such cases by the
disjunction of definite forms (general and contingent). Instead of I, we would always say
either A or IO; and instead of O, either E or IO. But this would be artificial. Why
deprive our thinking of valuable tools, and not take as given what ordinary language has
provided? Ordinary language surely satisfies the needs of our cognitive faculties. A certain
degree of linguistic brevity is necessary to reason clearly, otherwise language may become
a source of confusion. The forms I and O make such simplification possible (even though
having them slightly increases the size of our propositional arsenal).
To show that Talmudists need indefinite particulars as much as anyone, to reason
clearly beyond the ab initio stage, we need not go into a systematic and exhaustive listing
and analysis of logical processes. It suffices for us to consider some arguments whose
conclusions are quantitatively more indefinite than their premises. In eduction, we may
illustrate what we mean with reference to certain conversions:
(A) All X are Y, is convertible to (I) Some Y are X.
(IO) Some X are Y and some X are not Y, converts to (I) Some Y are X.
Whether we start off with a general affirmative or contingent proposition, we can
by conversion only arrive at an indefinite particular; so that in fact it is only the I element
in these forms which is convertible122. In contrast, on the negative side, an O proposition is
121

In this sense, atheism is also a religion, one which opts for a negative answer to the
question of God's existence.
122
"Some X are Y" and "Some Y are X" both mean "some things are both X and Y", in which
form the order of the terms is irrelevant.

118

JUDAIC LOGIC

inconvertible, and only the E form may be converted (but that fully, to an E)123. Thus,
given A, or given IO, inference by conversion will only yield a conclusion of less definite
quantity, namely an I. We could, of course, reword the conclusion as either all Y are X, or
some Y are X and some Y are not X, but its correctness might seem less immediately
evident. Other eductions display similar results, though in different cases124.
With regard to syllogistic reasoning, particular conclusions are almost always
indefinite. Only in the third figure (by conjoining the valid moods 3/IAI and 3/OAO,
which have the same minor premise) is it possible to construct an argument with a
contingent (major) premise, which yields a contingent, and therefore just as definite,
conclusion. We get the following double syllogism:
Some Y are Z and some Y are not Z (IO);
and all Y are X (A);
therefore, some X are Z and some X are not Z (IO).
In all other cases, even if we start with a contingent proposition as one of our
premises, the conclusion as such can only be an indefinite particular. For in the first and
third figures, the valid moods AII and EIO cannot be combined, since their major
premises are contrary, and there are no valid moods with a negative minor premise; and in
the second figure, only negative conclusions may be drawn (see AOO and EIO), anyway.
This shows that anyone reasoning syllogistically from contingent premises is sooner or
later bound to encounter indefinite particular conclusions.
Thus, deductive logic requires a language with lav davqa particulars, as surely as
inductive logic does. This incidentally confirms that Aristotelian-type logic is indeed
generic, as applicable to the world-view of the Talmud (with its preponderance of
deduction), as to that of people concerned with cognition of non-revelational phenomena
(who rely more on induction).
The reading of (indefinite) particular propositions as contingent is the paradigm of
davqa interpretation; a similar movement of thought is used in relation to general
propositions, as we shall now explain. When we read a particular proposition Some X are
Y as davqa, we are producing new information, because we are supposing that Some
(other) X are not Y. The latter proposition concerns instances of X other than those
subsumed by the former; and it assigns the opposite predicate to them (i.e. not Y, instead of
Y).
For this reason, the allegedly derived proposition is sometimes, in Latin, said to be the acontrario of the original. I hesitate to use this expression too freely, however, because it might be
misinterpreted. It is important to note that the original proposition and the one derived from it by a
davqa reading are not contrary; they are compatible, since they can be and are conjoined. Thus, acontrario does not mean on the contrary, but assigns, to the remainder of a subject-class, the
negation of a predicate.125
123

The conversion of E is reducible to that of I, by ad absurdum; or it may be understood

independently, in a like manner.
124
For instance, in contraposition, it is the E and I forms which inhibit the process, since "All X
are Y" (A) may be contraposed to "All nonY are nonX", and "Some X are not Y" (O) to "Some nonY
are not nonX".
125
Note, anyway, that a-contrario is not really an 'argument' (though used in arguments); it is
merely a 'reading', since the result is not formally inferable from the given.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

119

Thus, the essence of davqa interpretation is to limit a statement, by means of an

exclusion. In the case of particulars, the movement of thought is from Some X are Y to
Only some X are Y (or, needless to say, from Some X are not Y to Only some X are
not Y). Similarly, in the case of generals, the davqa reading of All X are Y is the
exclusive Only Xs are Y, implying Every nonX is not Y - that is, No nonX is Y126 (or,
likewise, the davqa reading of No X is Y is All nonX are Y).
Note well that, by mere eduction, we can only infer from All X are Y that Some
nonX are nonY (the process is called inversion, and is validated in this instance by
contraposition, then conversion127); to get to the inference All nonX are nonY, we must
generalize the inverse. From the point of view of ordinary logic, therefore, the davqa
reading of a general proposition involves an inductive factor. Just as in the case of
particulars, new information is produced, so in the case of generals.128
The parallelism of the davqa interpretations of general and particular propositions
can be further brought out as follows. Consider a subject S (for species), which is
subsumed under a larger subject G (for genus); and let P refer to a predicate. The general
All S are P implies the particular Some G (namely those S) are P, and the formers
davqa implication All nonS are nonP parallels the latters Some G (namely those not S)
are not P.
Similar readings may be made with respect to (normal) conditional propositions.
For instance, when if P, then Q is understood as davqa, it implies if not P, then not Q;
although lav davqa, it only (normally) implies if not P, not-then Q.

3.

Kushya and Terutz.

In comparing the methodologies of the Talmud (and cognate investigations) and

science (and everyday discourse), so far, we have stressed certain overall differences. We
noted, firstly, their different data bases. And, secondly, we presented religion as a
predominantly deductive system, and secular science as an essentially inductive one, and
indicated some of the reasons for this contrast. But we need now to consider certain
similarities between these disciplines, to obtain a more balanced appraisal, for further
scrutiny makes clear that they converge in many respects.
With regard to raw data, though in theory our religion is based on mystical
experiences (mainly the Revelation at Sinai, which was partly collective, though in large
measure the privilege of prophets, especially Moses, to which we must add later events,
like the prophecies of Isaiah, for instance), which included both non-verbal and verbal
components - in practice, today, only the verbal components remain, so that our religion
depends on very ordinary sense-data, namely words read in books or heard from the mouth
of others, as well as some personal intuitions, and some imaginations and emotions.
126

This is usually the case, though note that 'davqa all X are Y' is often intended to mean:
literally all (and not just most) X are Y. What is negated, in such case, is the possible assumption
that the quantifier 'all' is being used in a hyperbolic sense, i.e. when what is really meant by it is
'virtually all' or 'almost all (but not quite all)'.
127
Inversion of "No X is Y" would be done by conversion, then contraposition.
128
Note that modality changes may be involved. For instance, the Rabbinical reading of Lev.
7:19, which says that the ritually impure are allowed to eat holy offerings, is that the ritually impure
are forbidden to eat holy offerings (see Scherman, p. 51).

120

JUDAIC LOGIC

With regard to logic, though the starting posture of Jewish law is theoretically
deductive, if we pay close attention to the way such law is actually developed in Talmudic
and Rabbinic texts, and the way it is taught and studied in practice, we see that they are
manifestly inductive. The Talmud develops in large part dialectically, by uncovering a
kushya (literally, a difficulty - a logical problem) in the midst of received texts and related
data, and searching for and usually finding a terutz (a solution) for it. This is also the way
the Talmud is taught and studied, retracing the steps of the original debate.
The kushya in question may be an outright contradiction, or it may be a less
obvious tension between two or more statements. Two or more propositions may be said to
be in a state of tension - of possible incompatibility - if there are conceivable logical or
natural qualifications under which they would be contradictory, or there are conceivable
interpretations of their terms which would result in an untenable antinomy. Also, the
difficulty may not be a conflict between explicit statements, but relate to implicit factors,
such as a perplexing silence concerning some topic or a surprisingly superfluous comment.
However, once the tacit source of discomfort is brought out in the open, the difficulty is
verbalized and can be dealt with.129
Conflicting propositions may come from the same or different sources. The
relevant sources are, as we have seen, the written Torah, the Nakh, the Mishnah and allied
documents (e.g. Baraitot), the Jerusalem and Babylonian Gemarot and allied documents
(e.g. later Midrashim), oral traditions carried by authoritative Rabbis, and later various
Rabbinical Responsa and codes of law130. Thus, for examples, a Mishnah may seem to
conflict with some Torah sentence; or two Gemarot, even two having the same author, may
seemingly conflict; and so forth (in every combination). In rare cases, the difficulty may be
an apparent conflict between the teaching of some Rabbi and some teaching of science
(e.g. agronomy or medicine).
The role of the terutz is to reconcile such real or imagined differences. This might
be achieved in a variety of ways. Sometimes, the Rabbis admit not knowing how to solve a
problem, and they leave the issue open (teku) for the prophet Elijah to deal with when he
returns. Meanwhile, they may use their prerogative to arbitrate, and simply reject, through
a majority vote131, one of the conflicting theses, which is thus reclassified as a theoretical
tradition without practical appeal132. But preferably, the conflict is dissolved by showing
129

The word kushya has originally, within the Talmud, a more specialized sense, referring
especially to textual differences. However, nowadays, in Talmud-study, the word is used more
broadly, much like the English word 'difficulty'. It is in this sense that we will use it here. Note that
there is often a subjective element involved: it is someone who is perplexed by silence or surprised
by repetition, etc. In such case, there is a need to understand the whys and wherefores of that
person's logical or other expectations, which other people may not share.
130
Responsa are written answers to questions posed to authoritative Rabbis concerning the
Halakhah; this way of clarifying and explaining the law has played an important role in Jewish life
since Geonic times. The codes, like Maimonides' Mishneh Torah and R. Joseph Caro's Shulchan
Arukh, were later developments, but are today of course very authoritative in any legal decision
making.
131
Regarding the all-important principle that the majority opinion is Halakhah, its
epistemological justification obviously cannot be that the truth comes to be known through a
majority vote. Rather, we may refer to a shared impression of truth, or a collective memory of a
previously known, but no longer certain, truth, in which cases majority vote establishes a sort of
inductive probability. A still better rationale to offer is ontological: through a power granted by Divine
authority, a potential law is made actual by majority arbitration.
132
The epistemological motive of that concept is obvious enough: namely, to incapacitate the
rejected thesis Halakhically, without delegitimizing the authority of its proponent, i.e. without putting
in doubt his infallibility in other contexts. Ontologically, the concept seems to imply a transcendental
reservoir of previously potential laws which can no longer be actualized. That idea would be

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

121

that the propositions involved concern distinct assumptions, or refer to different cases, or
are applicable to different circumstances or times, or mean different things. At first
sight, the conflict seems insurmountable, but after careful verbal or conceptual analysis the
propositions are shown to be more harmonious than previously thought.
Such resolutions of paradox are often, after a long-winded debate, disappointingly anticlimactic: a statement which seemed at first general, turns out to have been of more limited
applicability; or a statement initially made unconditionally, is finally inferred to have been intended
as conditional; or some word(s) that were apparently identical end up having dissonant senses in
different contexts. One wonders why the people involved did not from the start take the trouble to
express themselves clearly and unequivocally, if what they meant was the same as what they are
later taken to have meant. In some cases, one is tempted to suspect an ex post facto forcing of
reconciliation! To a newcomer, or an unsympathetic outsider, the process may at times seem
downright dishonest, a come-on, a time-wasting weaving and unweaving of illusions133. But
evidently, or apparently, there is progress, since a reasonably consistent and meaningful doctrine
does gradually emerge. From a didactic point of view, the succession of confusion and relief serves
to create and maintain interest. In any case, what concerns us here is the inductive role of the
dialectic.

An underlying problem is the telegraphic style used in Talmudic discourse. A

seemingly simple word is often a mere catchword for a very complex thesis, and there is
no way for us to know whats what except through the dialectic. Theses and countertheses are not from the start clearly defined, but receive their final form only through the
final synthesis, which shows that they were not quite so antithetical as they appeared.
Examples abound. For instance, in Baba Qama 84b, which debates the payment of
damages in the event of burning (causing pain) or bruising (wounding) - for one party, the
term burning is interpreted as excluding bruising by definition, and the term bruising
is taken as including burning; for another party, the term burning is interpreted as
burning and bruising by definition, and the term bruising (funnily enough, if I am not
mistaken) is taken to mean burning without bruising; and so on. We see here that X
need not mean X, whether or not Y, but may mean X and Y, or X but not Y, or even
notX and Y, or notX and notY. A term is merely an abridged title (techila) for a more
complicated expression, in which it may even have negative value!
Now, the dialectical process of correlating divergent answers to a legal question
cannot be considered part of deductive logic, but has to be classified as inductive, for
several related reasons. Firstly, the process of finding answers to the questions posed is
more creative than mechanical; it is essentially a process of adduction - proposing new
terms or conditions, which will reestablish internal or external consistency in ones
knowledge base. Secondly, alternative solutions may usually be offered to the problem at
hand, and often are. Thirdly, the final decision, if any, is rarely arrived at immediately, but
rather through a gradual trial and error process. The Sages make various suggestions as to
how the conflicting theses might conceivably be harmonized, and these proposals are be

consistent with the remark made previously, that the legislative power seemingly granted to the
Rabbis by God must be viewed as a creative power, since the moment a law is promulgated by
them it becomes an objective value, a normative fact. We may then speak of the irreversible
actualization of a potential law.
133
It must be pointed out that this kind of reasoning, in which the goal is to reconcile
conflicting authorities, is not confined to Judaism, but was common practice in Medieval European
universities.

122

JUDAIC LOGIC

successively eliminated for some reason or another, until a proposal is found which is
obviously acceptable to everyone or withstands all criticism leveled against it.134
Notice that we have two superimposed levels of discussion: at the core, there is a
conflict relating to textual matters and/or authoritative opinions about such matters; but
next, there may be contending opinions as to how the core conflict may be remedied. Yet
further levels of discussion may be identified, when we consider all subsequent
commentaries and supercommentaries across the centuries! All that is additional evidence
of the inductive character of large segments of Talmudic discourse.
Similarly, by the way, the mental operations of anyone who teaches or studies the
Talmud are of necessity inductive. All the more so, since the Talmud does not set out its
results in an orderly, organized fashion, but leaves its researches in their brute form. The
reader is required to retrace the course of the discussion, as if a participant in it, using trial
and error. For this reason, the Talmud remains forever a peculiarly living document, free of
the dry finality of more modern codifications of law.
The radicalness and importance of our classification of much of Talmudic logic
under the heading of inductive logic must be emphasized, for it is contrary to the views of
certain past commentators who (it must be said, without intending disrespect) did not
always have a very advanced knowledge and understanding of the science of Logic.

4.

Standards of Knowledge.

Thus, in conclusion (so far in our research), the thought-processes involved in and
generated by the Talmud largely resemble those of science. Like the scientist, the
Talmudist must repeatedly make hypotheses and test them on the given data which
specifically concerns him, as well as pursue logical consistency.
For the scientist, the data-base consists ultimately of non-verbal sensory
impressions of natural phenomena (which are ideally reproducible in public, though not
always so). For the Talmudist, as we saw, the data-base consists of the (written or oral)
verbal leftovers of long past mystical experiences. But apart from these essential
differences in empirical context, the two display a uniform mental response, the same
array of methodological tools - inductive and deductive arguments used in various
combinations and orders. Which is to be expected - we are all people, similarly
constituted, having the same cognitive faculties, subject to the same epistemic facilities and
constraints.
Epistemology is the philosophical discipline concerned with understanding how
knowledge is obtained and how it may be justified. That discipline, through the work of
formal logicians, has made clear that the justification of any content of knowledge, or of
any change from one content to another, is a formal issue. Prior to any scientific or
Talmudic inference, be it inductive or deductive, there is the need to examine the logical
validity of that method of inference independently of its content. No reasoning process, be
it by a pious Talmudist, a professional scientist, or a common man or woman, is exempt
from such formal scrutiny.

134

See Lewittes pp. 66-68 on Rabbinic disputation; in particular, note R. Yannai's statement:
"If the Torah had been given clear-cut, no opinions would be countenanced in the halls of learning."
On the wide law-making powers of the Sanhedrin in practice, see pp. 62-63 of same.

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS

123

However, it must be emphasized that (contrary to the views of certain philosophers

and logicians) the validation of a logic is a very prosaic achievement of common sense,
and not at all the special privilege of some transcendental method. Just as our everyday
reasoning proceeds by logical intuitions - our common conceptual insights that, say, some
thesis is compatible or incompatible with another, or implies or does not imply it - so it is
with the reasoning processes of logicians intent on formal validations. The ultimate test of
any reasoning process, material or formal, is its ability to convince us. If, sincerely,
however informed and intelligent we be and however hard we try, we are not convinced then, we are not convinced. An argument must carry within itself the power to change our
minds.
Some logicians think that we can, following the model of Euclidean geometry, in
advance posit standards of reasoning, by means of axioms standing outside of the totality
of knowledge. But they fail to realize that such axioms would themselves remain
unproved, and therefore be unable to prove anything. Other logicians, finding this
circularity problematic, try to avoid it by rejecting all conceptual knowledge and
considering only purely perceptual knowledge as valid. However, such a position cannot
be consistently sustained, being itself a conceptual proposal. A balanced and practical
viewpoint is only possible, through honest introspection and acknowledgement of the ways
we actually reason, and reason about reasoning.
Talmudic reasoning, like secular reasoning, could not proceed if we did not have
the same logical reactions to the stimuli of received doctrines. An esoteric logic, like the
incomprehensible mental acrobatics of the Zen koan, has little credibility. It is only to the
extent that a logic causes a universal reaction of understanding and conviction that it
qualifies as a real logic. The goal of the koan is not to convince by appeal to evidence and
rational processes, but to assist those who meditate on it to overcome such ordinary mental
patterns and break through to another kind of consciousness; in that case, assuming even
that it works and produces the desired result, the koan is not a logic, but at best a
psychological tool.
Similarly, we must draw a clear line between Talmudic logic and faith; these bases
of belief cannot be confused. When we face an argument, or a form of argument, used in
the Talmud, if we are to grant it the status of logic, it must be capable of convincing us by
itself, independently of any issue of faith. We may well grant proper respect to faith, but we
cannot do violence to our minds and pretend that there is logic where there is none. Being
convinced by an argument cannot be a test of faith; either we arrive at a conviction through
logic, in which case no forcing of belief is needed or permissible, or through faith, in which
case we simply honestly admit that this is the basis of our belief.135
These comments have to be made, here, because it may be that the Talmud has a
koan-like function. Many positions and processes found in it may seem weird to some
people; perhaps continued study eventually causes a sort of shift in consciousness, after
which everything previously found enigmatic becomes perfectly comprehensible. Be that
as it may, we cannot be swayed by such a consideration; our concern in the present volume
is only with logic. We will as we proceed consider various patterns of argument found in
the Talmud, and related documents, and try to fairly and frankly assess their credibility,
with reference to high standards of truth.

135

What is said here should be obvious, but I have often enough observed people afraid to
admit being unconvinced by an argument, through fear of being suspected of lack of faith or of
disrespect of the Rabbis.

124

JUDAIC LOGIC

9. TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS.

A brief overview of the ways Judaism traditionally presents the art of Talmud
Torah, followed by some suggestions on same.

1.

Hermeneutics.

Talmudic law was decided, with reference to the Torah, after much debate. In a
first stage, the debate crystallized as the Mishnah; in a later stage, as the Gemara. The
methods used in such discourse to interpret the Torah document are known as
hermeneutic principles (or, insofar as they are prescribed, rules). In Hebrew, they are
called midot (sing. midah), meaning, literally, measures or virtues. This Talmudic
logic, as we shall see, has certain specificities, both in comparison to generic logic and
intramurally in the way of distinct tendencies in diverse schools of thought. Various Rabbis
proposed diverse collections of such methodological guidelines, intending thereby to
explain and justify legal decision-making136.
Readers may find it useful, in this context, to study: the articles on hermeneutics in the
Jewish Encyclopedia137 and the Encyclopaedia Judaica138, as well as Bergmans Gateway to the
Talmud139, and the Reference Guide to Steinsalzs English edition of the Talmud.

The earliest compilations were: the Seven Rules of Hillel haZaken (1st century
BCE) ; the Thirteen Rules of Rabbi Ishmael ben Elisha (2nd century CE); and the
Thirty-two Rules of Rabbi Eliezer ben Yose haGelili, of slightly later date. These lists
are given as Baraitot, the first two in the introductory chapter to the Sifra (1:7)141 and the
third within later works. As already mentioned, Baraitot were legal rulings by Tanaim not
included in the Mishnah; but they were regarded in the Gemara as of almost equal
authority142.
140

136

The hermeneutic principles are applicable more broadly to all Scriptural exegesis, including
Hagadah; however, in the case of the non-legal aspects some less strictly regulated forms of
interpretation are often used, additionally. If the latter are not considered trustworthy enough for
Halakhah, I do not see how they may be relied on for Hagadah, which also affects the beliefs and
actions of people.
137
Vol. , pp. 30-33.
138
Vol. 8, pp. 366-372.
139
Ch. 13.
140
Note that Hillel and Shammai are traditionally not given the title Rabbi, or any equivalent.
141
A Halakhic commentary to Leviticus, also known as Torat Kohanim, attributed to R.
Yehudah b. Ilayi, a disciple of R. Akiba (2nd cent. CE).
142
As Scherman has pointed out, these Baraitot were different, in that they were not in
themselves statements of law but explanations of how the laws were derived from the Torah
source.

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

125

According to Jewish tradition, at least since Geonic times (notably, Saadia Gaon)
and still today, these rules all date from the Sinai revelation and were since then
transmitted from teachers to pupils without interruption143. This is in part confirmed by
statements in the Talmud and literature of that era, in which Rabbis claim to have received
knowledge of certain rules from their teachers144. But the historicity of the general claim
has not so far been demonstrated by any pre-Talmudic evidence: in particular, there is no
obvious mention of such interpretative principles anywhere in the Tanakh.
According to Jew. Enc.: The antiquity of the rules can be determined only by the dates of
the authorities who quote them; in general, they cannot be safely declared older than the tanna to
whom they are first ascribed. It is certain, however, that the seven middot of Hillel and the thirteen
of Ishmael are earlier than the time of Hillel himself, who was the first to transmit them. At all
events, he did not invent them, but merely collected them as current in his day, though he possibly
amplified them. Still according to J.E., Ishmaels rules are merely an amplification of Hillels;
and similarly Eliezers rules coincide in many instances with Hillels and Ishmaels, though in other
instances they concern the Hagadah rather than the Halakhah.

It does not, in any case, seem likely that such rules would suddenly be invented,
as a conscious act, by their apparent authors or anyone else. The most likely scenario, from
a secular point of view, is that they were for some time unconscious discursive practices by
participants in legal debates; gradually, it occurred to some of these participants (most
probably precisely those whose names have come down to us as formulators, or reporters
and collectors, of hermeneutic rules) that they and their colleagues, and their predecessors,
repeatedly appealed to this or that form of reasoning or argument, and such implicit
premises would be made explicit (thereby reinforcing their utilization). Different such
commentators would find some rules more convincing than others and thus compile
selections; eventually, contending schools emerged.
Those would be the natural stages of development of such a body of knowledge: first,
unconscious practice (which might be correct or incorrect); second, dawning awareness of such
practice (due to what we call self-consciousness); thirdly, verbalization, randomly to begin with
(by exceptional individuals, focusing on the most outstanding practices), and then more and more
widespread (more insights, by more people, as a cultural habit develops); fourthly, systematization
(of the simplest kind, namely: listing) and dispute (as different lists are drawn up by different
groups). In the case of Judaism, the next stage was merging results (by later generations, out of
veneration making all the lists kosher at once); and subsequently, there was a stage of commentary
(trying to justify, explain - within certain parameters). However, sadly, as we shall see, the last
natural stages of formalization and evaluation never occurred (until recently, outside orthodox
circles).

According to Jew. Enc., these various lists were not, even in their own times,
viewed as exhaustive. I am not sure how true that remark is, i.e. whether there is any
statement in the Talmud or related literature which confirms the assumption that Hillel, R.
Ishmael, R. Eliezer, or whoever compiled a list, did not consider himself as having
succeeded in making a full enumeration of valid midot. At the other extreme, the view of
traditionalists today, that these lists were all equally complete, is (as we shall see) just as
conjectural, and based on anachronistic and circular arguments.
143

To explain the differences in listing, orthodox commentators go to great lengths. We shall

have occasion to discuss some of these explanations as we proceed.
144
For examples, klal uphrat, a R. Ishmael principle, is attributed to Nechunia b. Hakaneh
(Tosefta Shevuot 1:7); ribui umiut, a R. Akiba principle, is attributed to Nachum Ish Gimzu (Shevuot
26a).

126

JUDAIC LOGIC

What is in any event evident, is that the rules in each list were not in their own
times uncontested. The school of Hillel was opposed by that of Shammai, and Rabbi
Ishmaels formulations were challenged by Rabbi Akiba ben Yossef. It is interesting to
note that, at first, these opposing views were considered mutually exclusive; but, over time,
they came to be used indiscriminately145.
It apparently came to be considered that, although two dissonant rules may indeed
lead to conflicting interpretations, the selection of one or the other of them as the finally
applicable rule in any given single context, was a matter of tradition or majority decision;
effectively, the correct conclusion was predetermined, and the rule selected only served as
an ex-post-facto rationalization. Thus, the ontological status ascribed to the hermeneutic
rules is that they were conditional on material factors - formalities activated or left dormant
by textual content (which details were, one by one, designated by authorities, on the basis
of transmissions or by vote).
Although R. Akibas approach usually prevailed in practice, R. Ishmaels thirteen
midot are the most popularly known: they have become part of the daily liturgy and can be
found in most Jewish prayer books. Since the above mentioned initial formulations, many
attempts have been made to compile more complete lists (for instance, by Malbim). We
will in the next chapters analyze all the hermeneutic principles systematically with
examples; here, we will be content to only make some introductory comments.
At the outset, it shall be pointed out that the rules are not all of a purely
deductive nature, contrary to what may be thought at first glance. When the rules suggest
a derivation, they do not necessarily refer to a mechanical relation between premises and
conclusion. Most of the rules results are partly or entirely inductive; that is, they are, at
best, a good working hypothesis within the given context of knowledge, which may
possibly be replaced by another hypothesis or a deductive inference in an altered context of
knowledge.
Some of the rules, wholly or partly, represent deductive or inductive principles
which can readily be justified by natural logic. Of these, some may be validated in formal
terms (i.e. substituting symbols for specific contents); whereas others describe discursive
acts which are rather intuitive - responses to material data without fixed patterns - and
which can be approved with reference to broader epistemological considerations. However,
some of the rules, wholly or partly, seem, from the point of view of natural logic, rather
obscure and arbitrary, and remain acceptable only due to a claim that they are of Divine
origin.
The Talmud itself at least implicitly recognizes the inductive nature of many of the
arguments in it. This is evidenced by the fact that when several alternative premises are given for a
certain conclusion, it is viewed as being weak. The Rabbis argue: Nu, if each of the sets of reasons
given was sufficient, why bother to adduce the others? From a deductive point of view, there is
indeed no utility in giving many reasons; but nor is there any harm in it. It is only in inductive logic
that giving more reasons increases the probability of the result, and therefore also suggests
(incidentally) its relative weakness.

Our remark that Talmudic (and indeed later Rabbinic) reasoning is very often
inductive, rather than purely and exclusively deductive, should be emphasized. It is
145

Still today, in Talmud study, people do not find it odd that a R. Ishmael rule might prevail in
one context and a R. Akiba rule in another. Logically, one would have thought that just one of the
systems would have to be adopted for the whole Talmud.

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

127

contrary to popular belief (people are rather surprised when I suggest it), and so manifestly
ignored by other writers that I would tend to claim it as original. If it is original, then it
should be stressed as very important, among the most significant insights of the present
work. In any case, it is evident and incontrovertible fact.
The idea is disturbing, not to say devastating, to many people, because induction is
thought of as inherently more fallible than deduction, and it is difficult to juggle with doubt
and dogma. But in all fairness the truth of the matter is that deductive reasoning can also in
principle and often does in practice err, and that inductive reasoning is not in principle
necessarily weak nor does it always go wrong in practice. Each case must be considered on
its own merits; one cannot make sweeping statements for or against such broad categories
of mental process.
Let us now briefly take a look at the tenor of the 13 Midot of R. Ishmael; we will
have occasion further on to analyze them more fully146. We may distinguish three groups:
(a)
Midot whose purpose is to infer information from the text, i.e. to make explicit
what is implicit in it; this includes rules Nos. 1-3 and 12.
(b)
Midot used to elucidate terms in the text, especially their extensional aspect; this
includes rules Nos. 4-7.
(c)
Midot serving to harmonize seeming or manifest incongruities in the text,
including, as well as inconsistencies, mere redundancies, discrepancies, and other
sources of perplexity; this includes rules 8-11 and 13.
Admittedly, this grouping of the 13 Midot is a bit artificial. For, in a strict view, all
inference of information is an eventual elucidation of terms and a prevention of inconsistency; and
similarly, all elucidation of terms constitutes inference of information and harmonization; and
likewise, all harmonization results in elucidation of terms and leads to inferences of information.
Nevertheless, the immediate goals of these different movements of thought are sufficiently distinct
to justify our subdivisions. A nice thing about these groupings is that they show a continuity of sorts
in the approach of R. Ishmael, and explain and justify the sequence in which the midot were listed.
The only misplaced midah in our view is No. 12, which should be closer to No. 2, or at least in the
same group.

a.

Inferences of information.
Rule 1, qal vachomer (lit. lenient and stringent), refers to a-fortiori, a form of
argument whose conclusion is essentially deductive, though there are in practice inductive
aspects involved in establishing the premises, as we have seen. Within Judaic logic, this
form of reasoning has in fact served as the paradigm of deduction, much as Aristotles
syllogism (with which it is often confused) has had the honour within Western logic. The
discovery of a-fortiori is, I would say, one of the most brilliant contributions of Jewish
logicians to generic logic. It should be noted that a-fortiori has Biblical roots, as Jewish
tradition has reported since Talmudic times if not earlier.
Rule 2, gezerah shavah (lit. equal rulings), refers to arguments by analogy, or more
specifically inferences based on homonymy (similarity of wording) or on synonymy
(similarity of meaning). Reasoning by analogy was very common among the ancients,
Jewish and otherwise, until the advent of the scientific method in relatively modern times;
it could range from far-fetched comparisons to very credible equations. Of course, most
arguments, including syllogism, are based on analogies, since conceptualization depends
on our intuition of similarities between apprehended objects. However, not until recently
146

See chapters 10-12, infra.

128

JUDAIC LOGIC

was it fully understood that the legitimacy of an analogy rests on its treatment as a
hypothesis to be tested, and repeatedly tolerated (i.e. not rejected) and even confirmed (if
predictive) by evidence, more so than its alternative(s). So analogy is essentially an
inductive mode of thought.
While gezerah shavah is based on closeness of subject-matter, inferences from
context appeal to the textual proximity of topics. Such logistical considerations are
relatively incidental, but they lean on the fact that the text in question was written by an
orderly mind. This form of reasoning includes: the rules known as heqesh (relating to two
items in the same verse) and semukhim (relating to two items in adjacent verses), which
are traditionally counted as aspects of rule No. 2 (though probably later inclusions under
that heading); and rules classed as No. 12, meinyano (inference from immediate context)
and misofo (inference from a later reference). Such reasoning has obviously got to be
regarded as inductive, since however intentional the positioning of words, phrases or
sentences, there have to be occasional changes of topic.
A matter of related significance, note, is the assumption by R. Akiba that, in a Divine
document such as the Torah, the choice and placement of words cannot be accidental; whence, no
repeated word is superfluous and no missing word is insignificant, every letter counts, and so on.
This view allows, indeed encourages, many an inference (or alleged inference). Be it said, R.
Ishmael did not in principle agree on this issue, but considered that the Torah speaks in the
language of men.

The interpretations involved in analogical or contextual arguments may be

intuitively reasonable enough, but they are not readily put in formal terms and are therefore
difficult to validate systematically. In any case, applied indiscriminately, such arguments
are bound to lead to difficulties - one line of reasoning may lead to one conclusion, and
another to its opposite, there being no inherent logical protection against contradiction.
And indeed, difficulties were often encountered. For this reason, many limitations were
imposed on these rules; and ultimately, they were regarded as unusable without the support
of an accepted tradition, or at least the approbation of the majority of the authorities.
Rule 3, binyan av (lit. father construct), seems to refer to causal reasoning; that is,
to finding the causes (in a large sense) of differences or changes, and thus predicting
similar effects in other contexts. In a legal context, this means finding the underlying basis
of known laws, so as to be able to make coherent laws in other areas. Here too, argument
by analogy is involved, and the mode of thought is essentially inductive. The way the rule
is traditionally worded (a comprehensive principle derived from one text, or from two
related texts) gives a false impression that it refers to immediate or syllogistic inference;
but we must look at its operation in actual practice to understand it, and in such event the
role played in it by the process of generalization becomes evident. While such reasoning is
relatively easy, nowadays, to express formally and control scientifically, the Rabbis (as we
shall see) had a surprisingly hard time with it.
b.

Elucidation of terms.
Rules 4-7, labeled collectively as klalim uphratim, seem to concern class logic, to a
large extent, as they involve the expressions klal (general) and prat (particular) in various
combinations. Many arguments of this kind may be viewed as effectively proceeding from
definable linguistic conventions - in the non-pejorative sense that they reflect certain
uniformities of intent, in the style of Hebrew expression used by the Torah. For instances:
the combination of a general term followed by a particular term, in close Torah verses or
parts of a verse, yields a particular result (klal uphrat); whereas the reverse combination, of

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

129

a particular term followed by a general term, yields a general result (prat ukhlal). As every
writer or speaker knows, a maximum of information can be communicated in a minimum
of words, through certain turns of phraseology. This seems to be the motive, here.
Well and good, thus far - in theory. But in actual practice the expressions klal and
prat cannot always be taken at their face value. Closer acquaintance with practical
applications of the klalim uphratim rules reveals that their logic is not quite identical with
that of Aristotle. In Western logic theory, inclusions or exclusions between broader
concepts (genera, overclasses) and narrower ones (species, subclasses), or classes and their
singular instances (individuals), are purely mechanical procedures, which presuppose
clearly defined terms. Such subsumptive arguments can be readily represented pictorially
by circles within or intersecting or outside other circles, known as Euler Diagrams, and are
the domain of Aristotles syllogistic processes. But in the more Oriental logic of the
Talmud, things are not so simple; terms are vaguer and may be taken to imply formally
unrelated ones.
The truth is that in practice, even in Western thought, terms are not always at the outset
clearly defined; rather, usually, the definition of a term is arrived at through a gradual, inductive
process, as we focus on the subject matter more and more, and acquire a deeper knowledge of it.
Sometimes we do decide by convention to name a phenomenon whose description we have already;
but more often, we name a phenomenon before we are able to express its essence in words, and then
work our way by trial and error to a satisfactory definition of it. This developmental aspect is not yet
well accounted for in the classical theory of class-logic.

Certain efforts at exegesis are rather contorted, and a great deal of fantasy and
credulity are needed to accept them. R. Akibas methodology, where the terms used for the
purposes of inclusion or exclusion are ribui (broad) and miut (narrow), seems especially
weird to our minds. For instance, sheep may imply birds or even garments, without
apparent rhyme or reason147. This is why Maimonides regarded such arguments as having a
mere mnemonic purpose148. Their conclusions were foregone149, received in the chain of
oral tradition; nevertheless, the Rabbis made a determined effort to anchor them, however
flimsily, in the written Torah.
The best we can do to formalize such logic, then, would be to say that, given the
tradition that the laws concerning a certain topic are X, Y, and Z; and that these laws are to
be derived from a specified passage of the Torah, distinguished by the terms or phrases A,
B and C; then, if X is related to A, and Y is related to B, it follows that Z is to be paired-off
with C150. The formal logic involved is therefore conjunctive and hypothetical:
147

In Baba Qama, as I recall, but I did not note the page. However, here is another example
used by commentators, which is probably closely related. Consider, for instance, the sentence "For
all manner of trespass, whether it be for ox, for ass, for sheep, for a garment, or for any manner of
lost thing... he shall pay double to his neighbour" (Exod. 22:8). The question is, why after saying
"all" are various specifics (ox, ass, etc.) mentioned? Klal uphrat understands them as having an
constructive function, it starts with a minimalist thesis then expands it: "ox" means ox, and so forth.
Ribui umiut gives them an eliminative function, starting with a maximalist thesis then successively
contracting it: "ox" is mentioned so as to exclude land (which is immovable property, unlike oxen),
"ass" and "sheep" to exclude slaves or bills (which differ from the given examples in certain
unstated respects), "garment" to exclude the unspecific (such as unspecified quantity).
148
According to what I was told by a teacher; I have not looked for the reference.
149
To illustrate this, a funny joke is circulated in Yeshivot: "How do you know you have to wear
a yarmulke? Because it says Vayetse Yacov.... Would Yacov go out without a kipah?"
150
We might cite as an example of such reasoning Rashi's "if it does not apply", which
Bergman clarifies as follows: "If the Torah indicates a halachah in a case or category where it is
already known, then apply that halachah to another situation" (p. 120, my italics). Obviously, here,

130

JUDAIC LOGIC

If A and B and C, then X and Y and Z;

and if A then X and if B then Y;
therefore, if C then Z.
However, apart from this aspect, it is frequently difficult to honestly find formal
justification for such argument; that is, how the connective relations of the major and minor
premises were in the first place established. When in such contexts the Rabbis are found to
argue between themselves at length, the discussion often does not revolve around such
basic issues of proof, but is merely a controversy as to which of X, Y, Z is to be paired-off
(seemingly arbitrarily) with which of A, B, C. The only way then left to us, to explain the
unexplained, is to appeal to tradition.
c.

Harmonization.
Rules 8-10, which start with the words kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa (lit.
whatever was in a general principle and came out), deal with sets of statements whose
subjects are in a genus-species relation. Rule 8, although perhaps originally intended as one
rule, has become traditionally viewed as having two variants, which we are calling lelamed
oto hadavar and lelamed hefekh hadavar; these concerns cases where the predicates are
also in a genus-species relation of sorts. Rule 9, liton toan acher shehu kheinyano,
concerns predicates which are otherwise compatible; and rule 10, liton toan acher shelo
kheinyano concerns incompatible predicates.
Rule 11, which also starts with the words kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa, and
continues with the words lidon badavar hechadash, deals with situations where an
individual changes classes and then returns to its original class. Rule 13, the last in R.
Ishmaels list, shnei ketuvim hamakhechishim, concerns other reconciliations of
conflicting theses; note that this principle is to some extent reflected earlier in the present
volume, in the section on kushya and terutz.
All these dialectical principles are quite capable of formal expression, and (as we
shall see) are mainly inductive in nature, involving generalizations and particularizations.
There are some deductive, logically necessary, aspects to them; but on the whole, as
complexes of intellectual responses to given textual situations, they favour one course over
another, which is logically equally possible, if not equally probable, and therefore they
constitute inductive mental acts.
One might well ask why God, the ultimate author of the Torah, expressed Himself in so
tortuous and confusing a manner, that necessitated such complicated interpretative principles,
instead of speaking plainly and straightly. The answer I received from teachers when I asked that
question was that His purpose must have been to conceal the truth somewhat, so as to stimulate
Torah study. Also, if everything was made clear in a systematic and explicit manner, the Torah
could be studied fully in isolation; whereas, God wished it to be studied in a more social manner.
Some also suggest as an answer, on the basis of qabalistic ideas, that if the Torah was
perfectly explicit and unambiguous, then there would be no room for doubt in the world, and
skeptics would have no opportunity to make the redemptive leap of faith, which is needed to
safeguard human freedom of choice. If God was totally revealed, then humans would be forced, in
fear and trembling, and out of infinite love, to surrender all personal will and identity. The diversity

Rashi is appealing also to the R. Akiba principle that there is nothing repetitive or superfluous in the
Torah. The problem remains, which other situation, and how is the choice to be justified!

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

131

of the world was created and is maintained precisely through a concealment of some of the truth (for
if the world is ultimately, in truth, unitary, then all appearance of plurality must be a sort of untruth).

So much for the content, in brief, of R. Ishmaels list of rules. Our analysis (above
and below) somewhat justifies the order in which the rules appear in this list (except, as
already stated, for rule 12). However, some of the groupings implied by this list are open to
discussion. I would suggest that all inferences from context, including heqesh and
semukhim (traditionally considered as subcategories of gezerah shavah) and meinyano and
misofo, should have been grouped together under one heading (just as, for instance,
gezerah shavah constitutes one heading with subdivisions). Especially, the klalim uphratim
should, in my view, be reorganized, and counted as one heading, or as at most two
(classifying each process according as its result is a klal or a prat)151, instead of four.
Finally, in my opinion, the two variants of lelamed ought to be regarded as separate rules,
comparable to the two rules liton toan acher.
A comment worth making is that the arrangement and numbering of the midot may not be
stipulations of R. Ishmael, but may be proposals of the compiler R. Yehudah. To my knowledge
(without having researched the matter greatly), R. Ishmael did not systematically group and list his
midot, but merely formulated them and referred to them individually in various contexts as the need
arose; it is probably R. Yehudah who later brought them together in a list, and organized them into
13 sentences in the given order. But the number 13 is not sacrosanct. According to Bergman, the
Raavad noted the possibility of a count of 16 (counting rules Nos. 3, 7, 12 as two each); while others
suggested counting rules 8-11 as one152 and thus supposedly arrived at a count of 10. My preferred
manner of counting yields the number 13-2+1=12.
It must be noted that, judging by actual Talmudic and Rabbinic discourse, the inventory is
incomplete153. Orthodox commentators would not accept this last remark, and try to explain away
every silence or disagreement of R. Ishmael (or R. Yehudah) concerning some rule or some detail of
a rule mentioned by other authorities, earlier, contemporary or later. Since they regard the 13 rules
as (an oral) part of the Revelation at Sinai, they must explain why Hillel listed only 7 rules, or R.
Eliezer listed as many as 32. For this reason we find Bergman making statements like Hillel
certainly did not intend to dispute the teaching of R Yishmael, even though Hillel lived a couple of
centuries before R. Ishmael!154

Hillels rules (which we shall label (a) through (g), to distinguish them from R.
Ishmaels labelled numerically) are given in the Jewish Encyclopedia as follows:
151

Including, appropriately separated, the two rules distinguished by the word hatsarikh, which
are traditionally lumped together under No. 7. As later discussed, the treatment of complementarity
as something distinct is an overreaction, in my view.
152
In my view, this is wrong. Rule 11 is functionally radically distinct from rules 8-10, albeit the
common opening phrase. And rules 8-10 are sufficiently different in their premises and conclusions
to justify separate treatment, even though they are obviously a related series. This will become
clear further on.
153
Other principles worth noting, which are in practice used for hermeneutic purposes, are rov
(this statistical principle is usually associated with majority decision by judges, but it may also be
applied to matters of judgment, as for instance in Avoda Zara 75b, where Num. 31:22-23 "every
thing that may abide the fire" is understood by Rashi as referring to cooking utensils, since they are
the metal implements habitually subjected to fire) and perhaps hazakah (which, again, is usually
associated with the legal status quo, but in many contexts refers to empirical evidence). Note in
passing, with reference to Num. 31:22, the mention of iron - which suggests that the Iron Age had
started by 1300 BCE, whereas historians, supposedly on the basis of archeological findings, place
it at closer to 1000 BCE, if I am not mistaken. See also Appendix 3 for comments on Judaic
numerology (gematria), and other such exegetic techniques, which count as aspects, however
marginal, of Judaic logic.
154
Besides, how can one make conjectures about a past person's "intentions", without written
record to support one's case, and say "certainly"?!

132

JUDAIC LOGIC

Hillels
a
b
c, d
e
f
g

qal vachomer
gezerah shavah
binyan av
klal uphrat and prat ukhlal
kayotse bo mimakom acher
meinyano

R. Ishmaels
1
2
3155
4, 5
?156
part of 12

Now, I have put in the last column my initial impressions as to correspondences;

from which it appears that Hillel did not know (or use or list) at least seven of R. Ishmaels
rules, namely 6-11, 12 (the misofo part), and 13, while he adds (or has another name for)
one, namely (f). We might stretch our equations, and include rules 6 or 7 under (e); regard
R. Ishmaels misofo as a special case of Hillels meinyano; and maybe even assimilate
eventual cases of (f) under rules 2, 3, and 12. But it seems very unlikely to me that Hillel
intended any of R. Ishmaels harmonization rules (8-11, 13).
It could well be, as J. E. suggests, that R. Ishmael gradually developed the latter
additional rules157 as special applications (I would prefer to say extensions) of Hillels
(e), since they concern subjects in a genus-species relation. But we must in any case admit
that R. Ishmaels list of 13 was more than a mere rearrangement of Hillels list of 7; there
were clearly novel elements in it158. Similar patterns of development, involving
subdivisions, collapsing of categories, and new issues, are apparent with regard to R.
Eliezers list of 32159, judging by the data given in J.E. Note that if we refer to Shammai
and R. Akiba, the problems of comparison and contrast become much more complicated160;
and it would be very difficult to claim that these various authorities based their work on a
common blueprint.
Not only does Talmudic logic have specificities in comparison to generic logic, but
there are different logical trends within the Talmud itself. That is already clear in what we
have said above, concerning the competition between the schools of Hillel and Shammai,
or between R. Ishmael and R. Akiba. But the differences embodied in explicit principles
155

Bergman claims, in Raavad's name, that (c)=3 while (d)=13. But I do not see, judging from
J.E.'s wording, how such a position is possible. I suspect a characteristic attempt to force facts to fit
the comforting view that Hillel's list is a condensation of R. Ishmael's; it is significant that Bergman
occults the actual wording of the rules in question in the original sources.
156
This rule is called mah matsinu by Bergman; it is interesting to note that mah matsinu is
equated by Scherman to binyan av! The wording "as came out for it from another place" suggests
some kind of inference of information, anyway.
157
J.E. does not include R. Ishmael's rule 13 in this remark. Concerning rule 13, J.E. says that
it is "not found in Hillel".
158
Apparently, some orthodox commentators concede this point, since Bergman remarks
"Some explain that when he Hillel expounded before the elders of Beseira, he required only these
seven rules," implying the existence of other rules not expounded by him on that occasion.
159
As already mentioned, R. Eliezer's list is distinguished by its mixture of principles of merely
Hagadic value with those of Halakhic value; the exegesis of inspirational stories is less strictly
regulated than that of legal matters. I do not know first-hand how true these remarks are, but am
just passing on information.
160
Is it to avoid bringing such problems out into the open that, apparently, no lists are
traditionally given for Shammai's and R. Akiba's rules?

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

133

may not reflect all the underlying differences; there seems also to be unstated differences,
which were not brought out into the open. This refers to the concept of the shitah: as is
well known, there are leitmotifs which run through the legal rulings of individual Rabbis.
Some Rabbis, for instance Hillel, tend to rule leniently; others, like Shammai, are reputed
to lean on the side of stringency. The terms lenient and stringent, here, need not be considered as
implying a value-judgment on our part. Hillel appears the warmer of the two, because he tends to
ease peoples obligations; but Shammai also cares for people, he just wants to make very sure they
get to Heaven. (It is interesting to note, in passing, that in the French language the word chamailles
to refer to endless quarrels! I have long suspected, though this is not the explanation given in
etymological dictionaries, that the word was derived from the proverbial Shammai-Hillel
controversy.)

What concerns us, here, is the possibility that different logics underlie these
different tendencies. Say, someone utters what seems like a vow; how binding is it legally?
One Rabbi might answer generously that the statement is binding only if it has a certain
precise wording; it is to be taken at face value, with a minimum of implications, admitting
as inference only what strictly necessarily follows according to generic formal logic.
Another Rabbi might take the more severe view that, so soon as the utterance is articulated,
all sorts of motives and intentions may be taken for granted as implied; little need be said
to mean much. The latter Rabbi seems to be referring to a more specific logical framework,
in which there are unaccustomed relations among propositions.
To give an idea of the issue, here: in ordinary logic all X are Y does not imply
all Y are X; but one can readily construct a special logical system in which such
inference is acceptable. It would be onerous, make difficult the expression of all possible
thoughts, but it is not unthinkable (since every form has a contradictory). It may well be
such distinct (specific) patterns of formal logic underlie the differences in shitah. This is
merely a speculation; but the idea seems worthy of follow-up. To demonstrate it decisively
would require analysis of all of any given Rabbis pronouncements, in search of
uniformities.

2.

Heuristics.

The hermeneutic principles were intended, as discussed in the previous section, to

explain and justify the development of Jewish law from its Torah source. They were the
methodological bridge between the Torah and the Mishnah and Gemara; the more or less
logical techniques by means of which (to the extent that they are accurate renditions and
exhaustively listed) the written foundation-document, together with the oral tradition, were
transmuted into the Talmud.
However, a further set of principles is traditionally transmitted in Judaism, which
reflects more broadly the transition from Mishnah to Gemara, and then from Talmud to
subsequent Rabbinic Law, and finally the way Halakhah is actually taught and studied.
These additional principles may be characterized as heuristic (practical rules of thumb),
rather than hermeneutic (a priori methodologies), in that most of them constitute ex post
facto summaries of certain uniformities in terminology161, textual presentation and personal
161

Note in passing that some terms are apparently reserved to Halakhic contexts, while others
are reserved for Hagadic contexts (Rabinowich, p. xx).

134

JUDAIC LOGIC

authority found in the Talmud. I say most, because some of them though listed together
with relatively incidental rules of thumb, are more or less objective logical forms and
would have been more appropriately listed together with interpretative techniques162.
Many of the heuristic principles were already made explicit in the Talmud itself,
reflecting the intelligence, self-consciousness and unity of purpose of its protagonists,
recorders and redactors163; but some were evidently formulated in succeeding centuries, by
Savoraim, Geonim, Rishonim and Acharonim. Among the current works in English which
describe such principles, often in tandem with hermeneutics, we may mention again
Steinsalzs Reference Guide, Bergmans Gateway to the Talmud, as well as Rabinowichs
Talmudic Terminology164 (whose introduction includes an excellent bibliography on the
subject165) and Feigenbaums Understanding the Talmud. The last two of these books are
summarized in Appendix 4 for the readers edification.
The primary function of traditional teachings is simply to enable the student to
understand what the dense Talmudic text is all about. This presupposes, for a start, a
knowledge of Hebrew166, to follow the Mishnah, and of Aramaic, to follow the Gemara,
including the ability to read and a certain amount of vocabulary and grammar. Practice is,
of course, crucial, but theoretical accessories are also essential, both to begin with and as
one proceeds. Such tools are provided to some extent within the text itself; but studying
with a teacher, at least at first, is necessary for most people, and a relatively easy way to
gather information and skill; additionally, there are quite a few written aids to Talmud
study.
The phrases used in the Talmud, as well as their meanings and the significances of their
sequences, are not absolutely uniform and permanent, but do vary subtly from context to context, as
well as (to a larger extent) from one geographical location to another and from historical period to
historical period (in the different generations of Tanaim, of Amoraim, and of later Rabbis)167. The
uniformities in vocabulary and semantics no doubt developed largely spontaneously, reflecting the
idiom of time and place, although the Talmudic disputants and the compilers of the Talmud must
have made some arbitrary conventions, too. As for the patterns of exposition, e.g. the rule that if an
anonymous Mishnah containing only one opinion precedes one containing a dispute, the Halakhah
does not follow the anonymous Mishnah168, they must have been ab initio conscious conventions
or at least ex post facto decisions supposedly based on research findings.
With regard to the rules of thumb, and their exceptions, concerning the relative reliability
of deciders of the law, e.g. that the Halakhah generally follows Beis Hillel over Beis Shammai,
except... for certain cases, they must be understood as after-the-fact summaries of information169.

162

The reason for their inclusion is usually to elucidate the terminology, rather than to deeply
study their logical properties.
163
Judging by a chart in Aiding Talmud Study, there were a couple of hundred named
participants over a period of some 450 years.
164
This work is, according to its author and as the full title implies, an adaptation of M.
Mielziner's Introduction to the Talmud; New York, 1903.
165
The earliest work on terminology mentioned by Rabinowich, is Sefer Keritot by R. Samson
of Chinon, one of the last French Tosafists (fourteenth century). Then we have the Mevo
HaTalmud of R. Shmuel Ibn Nagrela HaNagid (so-called, but wrongly according to M. Margolis).
And so forth. Thus, according to Rabinowichs listing, the systematic development of such linguistic
analysis is a relatively late phenomenon (Rishonim). More details on this question might be found
in the History of the Talmud by Rodkinson (1903), mentioned on p. xiv, which I have not read.
166
For some quite incidental comments on the Hebrew language, see Appendix 5.
167
The contrast between Mishnaic Hebrew and the Aramaic of the Gemara or between the
Aramaic of B.T. and that of J.T. being only the most obvious variations.
168
Bergman, p. 92.
169
See Bergman, p. 94. Even here, there are differences of opinion. For examples, some say
that the law follows Beit Shammai rather than Beit Hillel in 6 cases, while some say in 3 cases; or

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

135

They were not prejudices imposed by Divine fiat, but final evaluations of the winners and losers in a
multitude of unrelated disputes. In other words, such principles are statistical reports on personal
scores, rather than reflections on substance or logical techniques; they cannot be used as proofs.
We have to take into consideration the historical development of this science170 of
Talmudic language, textual order and personal authority. There is an inevitable empirical element
involved in the formulation of heuristic principles, since they are not (as it were) inscribed in Nature
in the way Logic is, but depend on human factors. We may well wonder how much of the regularity
described by the books on the subject is shaky assumption and how much of it is incontrovertibly
established: i.e. what constitutes evidence for, and what inference from, the postulate that there is
regularity; for if the assumption is an empirical generalization, rather than a before-the-fact
convention, then it has to be studied much more carefully (since the law is affected by it).

The Talmud page is laid-out in a standardized way, with portions of Mishnah first,
followed by Gemara commentary thereon, the latter being separated by the Hebrew letters
mg (GM.); later commentaries, including mainly those of Rashi and Tosafot, are
normally included in the page, around the Talmudic text. It should be noted that, Semitic
languages being basically consonantal, the text was originally written and published
without vowel signs; and until recently this practice has been continued, partly because of
uncertainties or different traditions concerning proper vocalization. Since the text is also
devoid of punctuation marks, it is first necessary to identify where a sentence begins and
ends, and its various clauses; what we include or exclude in a sentence, and how we cut it
up into clauses, will obviously generally affect its meaning. Also, many abbreviations are
used, which must be assimilated.
As Feigenbaum makes clear, a related issue is the role of the sentence in the wider
context: is it a new topic or the continuation of an ongoing discussion; and if the latter, is it
a question or an answer, and in relation to what? This implies the need to recognize and
appreciate the function of every word, phrase, or sentence in each and every line of
argument, and to keep track of who said what and why. Facilitating such apprehension and
comprehension is the fact that there are recurring schemata; but even having prepared
oneself by their theoretical study does not always guarantee ones ability in practice to
correctly match the data and map the course of the discussion.
Talmud heuristics, judging by Rabinowichs excellent effort, consists of an ordered
lexicon of terms, including, at a first level, terms found in the Mishnah, then terms the
Gemara uses to clarify its Mishnah antecedents, and finally terms instituted by the
Gemara for its own development. Some terms can be characterized as analytical, as they
help to define the subject-matter, referring to various aspects of its classification; this
division mainly concerns the form and content of propositions, their terms, quantity,
polarity, eventually also modality or conditions; and (to some degree) awareness of what is
implicit in them. Some terms are synthetical, describing the logical or discursive
procedures through which a formulated proposition has come to be considered and
eventually become established or rejected.
The divisions and subdivisions of words and phrases appropriate to each context,
differ considerably in Mishnah and Gemara, because of differences in the development of
these two documents. The Mishnah is essentially a document intended to lay down
predetermined laws; a relatively static picture of the law at a given time, an end-product.
again, some say that in disputes between R. Yehudah and R. Nehemiah, the latter wins, whereas
the Rambam rejects this rule of thumb.
170
Talmudic language and organization has a history; and then the study of such history has
its own history. To what extent the latter has been traced, and accurately so, I do not know.
Evidently, some effort has been done, witness Rabinowich's bibliography; but a more thorough
effort may be necessary.

136

JUDAIC LOGIC

Whereas the Gemara is engaged, to begin with, in a studying and digesting process, and
eventually, having acquired momentum, it develops the law further in the presence of the
reader.171
So much, here, for the content of Talmud heuristics; we need not go into detail,
duplicating the work of others. However, some broad critical comments on the subject are
necessary. First, let us point out that if we wish to elicit from heuristic teachings some
items of epistemological significance, we must look especially at all little notes their
authors make concerning deviations from the norm: terms used with variant meanings in
certain contexts; different terms used for seemingly the same thing; unusual terms
sometimes used by certain players instead of the standard terms used predominantly;
Gemara contradicting or emending Mishnah, Savoraim doing same to Gemara; and so
forth. It is precisely such limiting cases, which fall outside the traditionally stressed major
norms, which should be carefully considered by us.
We may refer to some examples of abnormal heuristics given in Rabinowichs treatise. The
Gemara may indicate cases not provided for in the Mishnah (p. 62). This suggests that the
Amoraim did not consider the Tanaim as omniscient, or at least as having foreseen all possibilities.
The Gemara sometimes rejects a Mishnah, for one reason or another: In one instance (Niddah 13b)
the Mishnah is not accepted since the law it states is considered illogical! and the Gemara will
often consequently make slight emendations in the text of the Mishnah (p. 21); in one instance
(Yevamos 43a), due to differences in decision for seemingly like cases, the Gemara states this
Mishnah is not authoritative (p. 26). These examples suggest that the Gemara sages considered
themselves fit to question the judgment of the Mishnah sages, rejecting material which in time
becomes contrary to reason.
This is also suggested by the following example: In fact, in one case (Yevamos 27b) the
Gemara pushes aside a Mishnah in deference to a Memra of R. Yochanan!! (who was an Amora)
(p. 28). There are also suggestions that the Mishnah text had been adulterated by the time the
Gemara reviewed it: In, at least, two instances (Chullin 82a), the Gemara cannot resolve a conflict
between authoritative passages, and must claim that a certain law is not really part of the
Mishnah! (p. 28); a Mishnah may also be corrected (p. 32). Baraitot were also occasionally ignored
(p. 37) or corrected (p. 32), though that is less significant, since by definition, though of the same
period as the Mishnah, they may have been intentionally excluded from it because not authoritative.
The expressions perhaps it is mistaken, it should not be taught, and it is not to be taken
seriously reflect this greater possibility of rejection in regard to Baraitot (p. 60).
Further on in time, we find cases of Savoraim making additions to the Talmud, for instance
in Yoma 30b (p. 56), or again, according to one opinion, in Pesachim 102a-b (p. 45). This suggests
that the Talmud was doctored after being sealed. More broadly, we should also consider
discordances between sages of the same epoch: the Sages finding an argument of one of their
colleagues strained (p. 59) or arbitrary (p. 69) or unconvincing; or finding his approach to an issue
too vague or too fantastic or trivial (p. 64); or Sages being frankly stumped by a problem, unable to
solve it (teku) (p. 63). Such events tell us something about the sages as individuals: their knowledge
and reasoning powers were not necessarily perfect.
All the above applies to successive later generations of poskim, too. It all demonstrates the
inductive nature of the development of Jewish law - and it cannot but be so, since human knowledge
develops in response to phenomena. It is well known, also, that, as a consequence of being
transcribed by hand over and over again, from copies on which readers had put their own
handwritten commentaries, and sometimes as a consequence of censorship of parts of it by nonJewish authorities, by the time of the Rishonim, many versions of the Talmud were circulating; and

171

Baraitot often stir heated debate. Unlike Mishnaiot (which have primary authority), these
pronouncements of Tanaim are not necessarily known to all Amoraim, and yet they have
considerable authority (after Mishnaiot). For this reason, Baraitot often cause differences of opinion
between Amoraim: those in the know having one opinion, and those not in the know having another
opinion.

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

137

scholars had to labor mightily to detect the correct, or most likely, version172. That, too, is induction:
observation and reasoning, hypothesis and confirmation or infirmation.
We need not, here, belabor these matters further, though many more examples can be
brought to bear from throughout the history of Jewish jurisprudence. In my view, such footnotes to
Talmudic study cannot be taken lightly and dismissed as insignificant; they prove several things
beyond shadow of doubt, such as: that later sages did not always defer unconditionally to earlier
ones, but were willing to use their heads; that texts were often enough doubtful, so that there were
breaks in the continuity of the transmission of Jewish law; and more broadly, that the law underwent
a development, with growth and decay, changes and reversals.

It is interesting that even an author like Feigenbaum, who may be classed as very
orthodox, acknowledges a development in the method and language of the Oral Law: The
Tannaim... began to organize it into a network of precise laws arranged by topics - and
eventually the material, methods of analysis, and modes of expression expanded greatly
(p. 3, my italics). The fact is that the orthodox are usually loathe to admit that the law, and
indeed its methodology, have undergone any significant change since Moses time.
Changes have to be glossed over as minor, for the simple reason that the Law would
otherwise not be purely Sinaitic and therefore entirely Divine in origin.
However, the reader has only to examine a work like Lewittes Principles and
Development of Jewish Law173 to see that there has undeniably been change over time, most
often in the way of expansion and increased density, and often enough in the way of
contraction or simplification. Practices may be added or abandoned, specified in increasing
detail or become less demanding. How such changes, viewed collectively, are to be frankly
reconciled with the Biblical injunction not to add to or subtract from the Law (Deut. 4:2;
13:1) is unclear - and that is the reason why the matter has to be glossed over. Similarly,
study of works on hermeneutics and heuristics clearly shows that there have been
variations in Judaic logic174.
One suggestion I can make here, to resolve the inherent ideological problem, is that we
distinguish between a general delegation of authority and an endorsement of all the particular
expressions of the authority. That is to say, God may well say to us: your wise men of each
generation and locality have My sanction to enact and enforce laws, without thereby implying that
these laws must be the same everywhere and for all time. Just as, in the secular realm, the king (in a
kingdom) or the people (in a democracy) grants its chosen government (the executive, the
legislative and the judiciary) the power to make laws, without implying that it cannot later revise
172

Notably, Rashi, see Shereshevsky. Incidentally, it is shocking to learn that there have even
been variant versions of the Torah! On this matter, Lewittes (pp. 44-47) informs us that the Talmud
reports slight emendations in the text by the Soferim (Nedarim 37b - the Soferim appeared after the
First Exile); he also tells how, in one instance, three Torah scrolls were found in the Temple which
were not identical, and it was decided to adopt the reading common to two of them as valid
(Soferim 6:4) - a simply statistical method, note well. Also note his comment: "Shortly after the
period of the Talmud critical editions of Scripture were produced by the so-called masoretes, from
whom we derive the present-day Masoretic text. They decided which version of the several existing
ones should become standard..." though he rightly considers the matter of minor significance rightly, because such fiddling presupposes a pre-existing document in many versions. But
problems of this sort have recurred, judging by a comment in Cohen that Rashbam "apparently
reads alecha 'concerning thee,' not lecha as in the editions" (p. 166). More broadly, there are many
apparent inconsistencies (in names, spelling, numbers, etc.) in the Tanakh, which could well be
ascribed to mistakes of the writers or to scribal errors, though orthodox commentators go to great
lengths to explain them away in other ways; for instance, dodanim in Gen. 10:4 is written rodanim
in 1-Chron. 1:7 (the Hebrew letters d and r are easily confused). See Mitchell pp. 31-32, and also
101-102.
173
See for instance ch. 6, but the whole book is well worth reading.
174
Examples may be found scattered in the present work.

138

JUDAIC LOGIC
these laws, as it may reasonably need to as circumstances change, within limits defined by some
Constitution - so in the religious realm may God do so.
The mere fact of delegation of authority does not make immutability imperative and
adaptation forbidden. Indeed, the Torah passage in question specifies the judges in those days
(Deut. 17:8-13), reflecting an awareness that man-made laws, even those with general Divine
sanction, may well need to be modified, as knowledge and social conditions evolve175. In no way
does such delegation of authority logically necessitate that earlier judges be regarded by later ones
as perpetually right, as having divine powers of omniscience and infallibility, but it is only
suggested that they are likely to be the wisest for their time and place. If, say, today, our judges,
reviewing the status of women, perceive them differently than previous generations did, in the light
of a more open intellectual and societal atmosphere, they may well revise certain laws relating to
women, without thereby insulting past sages, or denying the sages in general Divine sanction and
invalidating their work.
Nowhere is it demonstrated formally that later sages need rigidly comply with all rulings of
the earlier. Such a principle of compliance is taken for granted by current orthodoxy, as an
established tradition, but there is no real textual basis for it. A circular argument is required of us:
we have to believe in the tradition because the tradition tells us to believe in it. But, I say, there has
to first be some kind of more authoritative justification, standing outside the tradition. For example,
women cannot be called to the weekly Torah reading, not because the Law originally forbade it, but
because of the communitys honour. Perhaps in those days communities generally had such
reactions; but what if today, in many communities, that is not the case anymore?176. The reason
proposed by the ancients reinforces itself, instituting social habits, but it has not been considered at a
sufficiently radical level.

3.

A Methodical Approach.

Although logic is ever-present in Jewish thinking, it is not as explicitly referred to

as it ought to be, in my view. Talmud Torah, i.e. Biblical and Talmudic studies, constitute
a powerful logical training, and the extraordinary success of Jews in all other fields is in
large part, directly or indirectly, attributable to this training. Nevertheless, we could do
better - much better.
Biblical exegesis could be improved by a more conscious application of logic.
What precisely has been, or can be, logically inferred from each and every sentence and
wording of the Torah, and by means of which specific form(s) of argument? Commentators
give explanations, but they rarely specify their precise sources, whether they are purely
traditional or whether they are based on reasoning. I imagine a book which would collect
next to every verse all the lessons to be learned from it, and just how. Judaism constitutes a
mass of beliefs, most of which are implicit if not explicit in the Torah. For instance, the
belief in Providence is not only based on abstract statements (like, say, that in the second
paragraph of the Shema), but is also suggested by various concrete stories.
But especially in Talmud studies, I believe a great improvement to be called for. A
section of the Talmud which describes all the complex arguments and counter-arguments
concerning a specific issue, is known as a sugya. The Talmud is naturally subdivided into a
175

Logicians have called the tendency to classify objects with reference to their past
characteristics, rather than with respect to their eventual new attributes, commission of the "genetic
fallacy". This is an inductive fallacy, of course, in that it reflects a mental rigidity, a failure to
empirically monitor objects of study for possible changes in their identity. Progress must be allowed
for in our perceptions and conceptions.
176
Many women today are evidently 'respectable' in any sense of the term understood for
men; the Swiss Conseillre Fdrale Ruth Dreyfuss comes to my mind. Another group which
seems to me wrongly despised by the Talmud are deaf-mutes; today, we know their true abilities.

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

139

large number of sections; some are brief, some are very long. The Mishnah makes a
statement; the Gemara finds some difficulty in it, in relation to some other Mishnah or to a
Baraita, and debates the issue; later commentators enter the discussion: Chai Gaon, Rashi,
Tosafot, Moshe Feinstein. More and more subtle questions are raised, finer and finer
distinctions are made, until everyone is satisfied, or silenced.
It appears, and I do not deny it, that experts in the field are able to follow these
complex arguments, without even the need for pen and paper; their minds are quick and in
perfect working order, and their intelligence is great. But for a dull wit like mine, and I do
not think that I am far below average, all this is hard to follow without a more point by
point approach. I personally know only too well, from repeated experience, how an
argument may seem very convincing on the surface, and then be found by applying the
methods of formal logic to be erroneous, or at least in need of revision.
I would like to see each sugya patiently analyzed, in such a way that all its
arguments are rendered entirely explicit, line by line, and it is demonstrated that all
possibilities have been taken into consideration, and no other conclusions than those
traditionally proposed are drawable. If there was an area of doubt, and a psak din, a ruling
by the authorities, was made, so well and good; the law need not be based exclusively on
logic. But the logic involved must in any case be made clear, to be fully justified. A whole
book might be written about each sugya, if necessary. There is great scope for scholarly
study in such an approach, and it would surely highly revive and stimulate interest in the
Talmud.
Our proposal may seem to go against the tradition that the Oral Law be kept as oral
as possible. But the truth is that this tradition has been virtually ignored since the redaction
of the Mishnah and of the Gemara: look at all the written commentaries which have made
their appearance since then. All I am advocating is the collection of all the authoritative
writings, concerning any given sugya, and their exact ordering with formal logic in mind.
That is only a kind of supercommentary, one might say. In any case, there is nothing to
hide from non-Jews; their scholars know the languages involved, and can study the original
texts, anyway, if they care to. On the other hand, the Talmud might in this way be made
more accessible to the modern Jew; and surely that is what counts the most.
The following is a succinct illustration of what I mean; how I would like to see the
Talmud studied and taught. The example is partial, but it suffices (in any case, these are the
only notes I took!). It is drawn from tractate Berachot, p. 14. The sugya arises out of a
difference of opinion (machloqet), between Sheshet on the one hand, and Rav and Shmuel
on the other, about whether or not it is permitted to verbally salute someone before
prayer; further complicating the matter, the terms involved have alternative
interpretations. Note the symbols I insert, to abbreviate the discussion.
P: One can say hello before prayer (Sheshet).
Q: One cannot say hello before prayer (Rav & Shmuel).
(Note in passing that these propositions are modal; the type of modality involved is
ethical: can here refers to permission, and cannot to prohibition.)
At first sight, P and Q are contradictory; however, it turns out that:

140

JUDAIC LOGIC

Say hello may mean:

a) seek out to say hello, or
b) chance to meet and say hello.
(Note that seeking out may be viewed as a special case of chancing to meet; so
that P(a) implies P(b), and contrapositely Q(b) implies Q(a), for any given value of the
other term (c or d).) Also:
Before prayer may mean:
c) before starting to pray, or
d) before completing prayers.
(Note that before completing prayers is understood as covering all the time
before, including that before starting to pray; so that P(c) implies P(d), and
contrapositely Q(d) implies Q(c), for any given value of the other term (a or b).)
Each of the given theses may thus, according to the terms involved, have four
meanings. Thus, P may mean P(a,c) or P(a,d) or P(b,c) or P(b,d); and similarly for Q. Our
goal is now to determine which combinations of P and Q, in their various senses, are
formally consistent, implying a possible marriage of the two positions. The method used is
one of elimination.
If P and Q have precisely the same subscripts, they are formally mutually exclusive,
since one says can and the other cannot. Thus, the four conjunctions like P(a,c) and
Q(a,c) are self-contradictory and can be eliminated from further consideration. What,
however, the remaining twelve conjunctions? We can eliminate a few more of them, by
using a-fortiori arguments.
First, if one cannot chance to meet and say hello, then one cannot seek out to say
hello. That is, P(a) and Q(b) are contraries, for a given value of the other term (c or d).
Second, if one cannot say hello before completing prayers, then one cannot say
hello before starting to pray. That is, P(c) and Q(d) are contraries, for a given value of the
other term (a or b).
These a-fortiori arguments enable us to eliminate five more combinations of P and
Q, namely: for the first reason, P(a,c) and Q(b,c), P(a,d) and Q(b,d); for the second
reason, P(a,c) and Q(a,d), P(b,c) and Q(b,d); and, for either or both reasons, P(a,c)
and Q(b,d). Which leaves us, so far as I can see, with seven internally consistent
conjunctions of the two theses:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.

P(a,d) + Q(a,c) = one can seek out to say hello before completing prayers, but one
cannot seek out to say hello before starting to pray.
P(b,c) + Q(a,c) = one can chance to meet and say hello before starting to pray, but
one cannot seek out to say hello before starting to pray.
P(b,d) + Q(a,c) = one can chance to meet and say hello before completing prayers,
but one cannot seek out to say hello before starting to pray.
P(b,c) + Q(a,d) = one can chance to meet and say hello before starting to pray, but
one cannot seek out to say hello before completing prayers.
P(b,d) + Q(a,d) = one can chance to meet and say hello before completing prayers,
but one cannot seek out to say hello before completing prayers.

TRADITIONAL TEACHINGS

6.
7.

141

P(a,d) + Q(b,c) = one can seek out to say hello before completing prayers, but one
cannot chance to meet and say hello before starting to pray.
P(b,d) + Q(b,c) = one can chance to meet and say hello before completing prayers,
but one cannot chance to meet and say hello before starting to pray.

This listing does not terminate the analysis. The next step would be to determine
the interrelationships between these combinations. Some are incompatible, because the P
part of one has the same terms as the Q part of the other; for instances, Nos. 1 and 6 are
contrary to Nos. 4 and 5. Some imply others, in view of the relationship (above mentioned)
between the terms a and b, or c and d. Thus, for instances, No. 2 implies No. 3; No. 4
implies No. 2, and therefore also implies No. 3; No. 5 implies No. 3. Some combinations
may be neither contrary, nor involve implications, and would in that case be taken as
merely compatible. We may also want to linger on each statement and consider just what it
means; for instance, No. 1 seems to imply a permission to seek out to say hello in the
middle of prayer.
I will not pursue these details further, but will only add: it is only after all such
preparatory formalities, that we may begin to wonder about the positions of different
Rabbis. Granting that the purpose of the whole sugya is to reconcile the apparently
divergent opinions of Sheshet and Rav/Shmuel, logic leaves us with seven possible
harmonizations; it is thereafter up to us to find ways to narrow the list yet further. What the
Gemara decided, how the various Rishonim leaned, what the Acharonim say, and what
precise arguments were brought in from elsewhere - all that concerns only the seven
leftover combinations.
If the reader is confused by the above labyrinth of reasoning, it would indeed please
me! Because, that would prove my point, namely that only the most exceptional minds
could possibly go through this process with certainty using only their heads, without
material supports. There is no way to be sure that all alternative possibilities have been
covered, without some such systematic approach. It would be hard for any normal person
to honestly say that they can zip through such complex logical processes, without seeing
them black on white. Even if a teacher orally described things step by step, it would be
difficult for a student to retain all the details in memory from start to finish, and thus be
sincerely convinced. In any case, a good background in logic theory would seem essential.
Incidentally, I have had the unfortunate experience of some Talmud teachers who rush
through a sugya, with little concern for communication. They seemed more bent on an ego-trip, to
appear of superior intelligence - or to hold by some arbitrarily imposed time-table (which
conveniently excused their skimming over difficulties). But the goal of teachers should be, and
supposedly it is the goal of most, to address the unique human minds of their students, and
effectively transmit convincing information to them, rather than to the surrounding airspace. The
value of the face to face encounter is precisely that the teacher answers the questions which bother
the student. One student, be it out of naivety or obtuseness or out of greater knowledge or
intelligence, may have no problem with a certain point; while another, for whichever of those
reasons, has a hard time assimilating the same information in his specific knowledge-context.
There is no virtue in glossing over difficulties; good thinking is relentless, it goes all the way.

Even so, while admitting the value of properly assisted learning, my appeal here is
still for a thorough, written exposition and elaboration of all Halakhic arguments, sugya by
sugya. Only such a review, performed by experts in both logic and Rabbinic decisions, can
render the logical undercurrents of the Talmud and its commentaries entirely transparent,

142

JUDAIC LOGIC

and make possible the demonstration of the high standards of logic involved in orthodox
reasoning. I believe, out of faith, that it is possible; but in any case, the Halakhah can only
gain from such a programme. For if there happen to be areas of weak logic, they will not
put everything in doubt, but simply present opportunities for new debates.
More broadly, it would be of great value to methodical researchers and students of
the Talmud and its Commentaries to have simply a table of contents, an index, a
concordance. I have not seen such a document, but I am told that it already exists; if not,
today with computers it should be easy to do (though perhaps expensive). There is a need
of transparency, not only at the level of specific arguments, but equally at the level of
making the literature as a whole susceptible to organized and systematic inquiry. For
instance, assembling together all pronouncements on any topic under investigation - so as
to have a true, unbiased, balanced picture of what has been said by all authorities on the
subject concerned, and so as to be able to trace precisely the historical evolution of laws
and attitudes.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

143

10. THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I).

In the present and next two chapters, we shall indulge in a closer scrutiny and
frank criticism of Talmudic/Rabbinic hermeneutics. In this first part of our analysis of the
Thirteen Midot of R. Ishmael, we shall deal with Rules 1-7 and 12.

1.

Exposition and Evaluation.

Traditional

presentations of the principles and practice of Rabbinic exegesis

consist in listing the Thirteen Midot of R. Ishmael (at least, though other techniques may be
mentioned, in contrast or additionally), describing roughly how they work, and illustrating
them by means of examples found in the Talmud or other authoritative literature.177
Such an approach is inadequate, first of all, because the theoretical definitions of
the rules are usually too vague for practical utility, and for purposes of clear distinction
between similar rules. A simple test of practicality and clarity would be the following: if
well defined, the rules should provide any intelligent person with a foolproof procedure, so
that given the same database as the Rabbis, he or she would obtain the same conclusions as
they did. The second important inadequacy in the traditional approach is the near total
absence of evaluation; there are no validation procedures, no reductions to accepted
standards of reasoning. There is no denying the genius of R. Ishmael and others like him,
in their ability to abstract rules of intellectual behaviour from the observation of their own
and their colleagues thought-processes in various situations. Nevertheless, as we shall see,
their failure to treat information systematically and their lack of logical tools, yielded
imperfect results.
We shall here propose some original ways to expose and evaluate Rabbinic
hermeneutics (mainly, the 13 Midot). The most important step in our method is
formalization; this means, substituting variable-symbols (like X and Y) for terms or
theses of propositions178. Formalizing an argument, note, means: formalizing all explicit and
tacit premises and conclusions. The value of this measure is that it helps us to clarify the
situations concerned, the Rabbinical responses to them, and the issues these raise. By this
means, we move from a level akin to arithmetic, to one more like algebra. When we deal in
symbols, we reduce immensely the possibility of warped judgment, due to personal
177

The present analyses were made possible thanks mainly to Bergman's detailed
presentation of the 13 Midot. Though I dislike that author's pompous tone and unquestioning
fanaticism, and disagree with many of his specific positions, he is to be commended for his unusual
efforts to clarify the hermeneutic principles. All too often, authors are simply content with listing
examples with a minimum of reflection; he at least tries (if not always successfully) to sort out
logical relations explicitly.
178
The formalization of relations is not technically valuable (apart from saving space), and
tends to alienate and confuse readers; for these more abstract features of propositions, we shall
stick to ordinary language.

144

JUDAIC LOGIC

attachment to some solution; all problems can be treated objectively. It should be said that
logical formalization is not always the most appropriate tool at our disposal; in some cases,
epistemological and/or ontological analyses are more valuable.

We have two sets of data to thus formalize, or analyze in some manner: (a) the
theoretical pronouncements of Rabbis (defining or explaining the rules, or guiding their
utilization), and (b) the practical examples they give in support (illustrating or applying
their statements). This work allows us to compare, and if need be contrast, Rabbinic
theory and practice. As we shall see, they do not always match.

Another utility of formalization or similar processes, is the possibility it gives us for

comparing Rabbinic conclusions to the conclusions obtained by syllogism or other such
established logical techniques. This is the ultimate goal of our study, to determine
without prejudice whether or to what extent Rabbinic hermeneutics comply with
deductive and inductive logic. As we shall see, they do not always parallel the course
taken or recommended by ordinary logic.
In anticipation of such divergences, it is important to study the Rabbinic
hermeneutic principles carefully, and distinguish between their natural factors and their
artificial factors. The natural aspects are immediately credible to, and capable of formal
validation by, ordinary human logic, and thus belong to secular epistemology. The artificial
aspects, for which Rabbis claim traditional and ultimately Divine sanction, are
controversial and require very close examination, for purposes of evaluation or at least
explanation. Our task with regard to such additives is to consider whether the rationales for
them offered by the Rabbis are logical and convincing, or whether these factors ought to be
regarded as human inventions and errors.179
We shall in the rest of this chapter, and in the next, deal with the 13 rules of R.
Ishmael under three large headings. Inferences of information - including rules 1-3, and
12, i.e. qal vachomer (a-fortiori argument), gezerah shavah (inference by analogy), heqesh,
semukhim, meinyano, misofo (contextual inferences), and binyan av (causal inference).
Then scope of terms - including rules 4-7, referred to collectively as klalim uphratim
(genera and species). Finally, harmonization - including rules 8-11, and 13, about which
much will be said.
It should be clear that we have no intention, here, of masking any difficulties, but
propose to engage in a warts and all expos. The technicalities may be found hard-going
by many people, but both secular and religious scholars, who endure through the ordeal,
will be richly rewarded. They will find, not only an independent audit of Rabbinic
hermeneutics, but a methodological demonstration of universal value. By the latter remark,
I mean that the same method of exposition (by formalization) and evaluation (with
reference to formal logic) can be applied to other movements of thought in Judaism, or
outside it, in other religions or other domains (philosophy, politics, or whatever).

179

We may regard the Rabbinic principle ain mikra yotse miyedei pheshuto (quoted by Enc.
Jud., p. 371, with reference to Shab. 63a and Yev. 24a, and there translated as "a Scriptural verse
never loses its plain meaning", with the added comment "i.e., regardless of any additional
interpretation"), as an implicit recognition that interpretations using the hermeneutic principles were
not always natural. It may be asked how they managed to mentally accept conflicts between a
midah-generated reading and a simple reading (pshat), given such a principle!

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

2.

145

Inference of Information.

We shall first consider the exegetic rules whose purpose is essentially to infer new
information from passages of Scripture, rather than to elucidate or harmonize the text (the
division is, admittedly, to some extent arbitrary). Included here are both deductive and
inductive processes, of varying degrees of formality and certainty.

We have treated qal vachomer (R. Ishmaels Rule No. 1) in considerable detail
already, and need only here remind of certain details. This refers to a natural thoughtprocess, a-fortiori inference, the most deductive form of Rabbinic argument. The Rabbis
of the Talmud and those which followed them, although they had an exceptionally welldeveloped understanding of this form of argument, did not have a complete understanding
of it, such as one might expect in the event of Divine revelation. Their knowledge of it was
not formal; they did not clearly distinguish inductive and deductive stages of reasoning;
they misconstrued certain applications of the dayo principle180; and they erroneously
counted the number of a-fortiori examples in the Tanakh.
It ought to be remarked that R. Ishmaels formulation, just qal vachomer, is very brief - at
best a heading; he does not define the processes involved. The distinction between miqal lechomer
and michomer leqal is not given in the list of Thirteen Midot; I do not know whether it is explicitly
found in the Talmud or only in later literature. To what extent were the Talmudic and post-Talmudic
Rabbis aware of the difference between positive and negative a-fortiori; did they ever note the
distinction between copulative and implicational forms of the argument, did they use the secondary
forms; at what point in history were the more complex Rabbinic formulations that we find in
contemporary literature developed: these are all questions I ask myself, but have not researched the
answer to. Historians of logic have still much work to do.

With regard to the legitimacy of the use of a-fortiori argument. We validated four
(or eight) primary moods, namely copulatives, subjectal or predicatal, positive or negative
(and implicationals, antecedental or consequental, positive or negative) and a number of
derivative secondary moods. Since the process has naturally valid moods, it follows that if
these moods are used properly, no formal objection to their use in contexts not sanctioned
by tradition is possible. Tradition can only restrict their use with reference to the inductive
preliminaries (as we discussed under the heading of objections); but with reference to the
purely deductive aspects, no Rabbinic legislation is possible181. It would be like trying to
conveniently exempt oneself from the obligation of honesty or consistency!
The same freedom of thought must be acknowledged for all other purely deductive
processes (or stages of processes), such as opposition, eduction, categorical or conditional
syllogism, production, apodosis, and so forth. Any Rabbinic restrictions in such areas
would be tantamount to an advocacy of antinomy, and cannot be tolerated. Rabbinic
180

I am referring here to the Rabbinical subdivision of the dayo principle discussed earlier, in
ch. 4, footnote 10.
181
Notwithstanding, the Sages were, in my view, very wise to reject corporeal punishment for
breach of prohibitions discovered through qal vachomer argument, or for breach of Torah
prohibitions whose penalties were inferred through qal vachomer argument. In practice, we can
rarely if ever be 100% sure of having freed our deductions of all possible material uncertainties;
and therefore some injustice might be caused. What is true of qal vachomer, the most deductive of
Talmudic arguments, should be all the more true of the other hermeneutic principles. (According to
Enc. Jud. pp. 371-2, this canon concerning inferred prohibitions or penalties, is R. Ishmael's: ain
oneshim min hadin; R. Akiba disagreed. We are referred to J.T. Yev. 11:1, 11d.)

146

JUDAIC LOGIC

interference, on the grounds of some special Divine dispensation delivered at the Sinai
revelation and transmitted by oral tradition, can only conceivably be applied to inductive
processes; that is, with regard to situations which allow for more than one possible answers
to a question, it is conceivable that there be a Divine decree as to which answer to favour in
some specified situation(s) or all situations. However, we must keep in mind that the
conceivability of such powers does not constitute proof that they exist in fact; it only makes
logically possible a claim but does not justify it; and furthermore, that any controversy
surrounding such powers throws doubt on their legitimacy.

The technique of gezerah shavah (Rule No. 2) is also based on a natural thoughtprocess, though a more intuitive and trial-and-error one. It consists in inference by
analogy. The expression means distinctive sameness, and therefore refers to the
fundamental epistemological processes of comparison and contrast, which are jointly the
basic technique of all concept formation. Applying them to textual analysis, we would
quite naturally (i.e. without need of special communication or dispensation of Divine
origin) look for homonyms and synonyms, to understand the language used and its
conceptual references. In all discourse, we may find labels used which are analogous
(similar in root, if not identical words), and apparently have similar or various meaning(s)
in different contexts; or we may find different labels used in different contexts, with
apparently the same meaning intended.
The scientific-minded approach to gezerah shavah would run somewhat as follows. The
meaning of a label, i.e. a word (every letter identical) or group of words (phrase), or word-root
(having certain common consonants, in the same sequence; though possibly with some different
vowels and consonants which indicate, on a wider grammatical basis, varying inflexions) or group
of word-roots, is suggested by the various contexts in which it appears in the text(s) concerned, as
well as in other texts and current usage, and through comparative etymology.
1.
Homonymy: If a, b, c... are all the occurrences of a label, and their assumed meanings
(based on the above suggested methods) coincide, and no other assumed meaning(s) would be as
coherent, then it may be assumed that the proposed single meaning is the intended meaning. If in
some isolated context(s) the meaning of a label is uncertain, and it is coherent everywhere else, the
same meaning can in all probability be generalized to the uncertain instance(s). But if the label is
ambiguous elsewhere, there being one assumed sense in some contexts and some other sense(s) in
others, then if no clear differentiating conditions are apparent, the sense most frequent elsewhere (if
any) is the most probable, though some doubt remains.
2.
Synonymy: If A, B, C... are various labels and their assumed meanings (based on the
above suggested methods) are unambiguous, and mutually identical or at least similar everywhere
they occur, and not even conditionally dissimilar anywhere, then these labels may be considered to
be equivocal and interchangeable; that is, they are different labels for the same thing. If in some
isolated context(s) the meaning of a label is uncertain, and it is coherent everywhere else, the same
meaning can in all probability be generalized to the uncertain instance(s).
Once the general meaning of a label or the equivalence of various labels is established,
statements with the label(s) concerned may all be assumed to refer to the same subject-matter. A
detailed example of the kind of analysis and synthesis here referred to may be found in the present
volume, in our study of a-fortiori in the Tanakh (ch. 5-6).
A traditional example of gezerah shavah is given by Enc. Jud. (with reference to Pes. 66a).
The expression bemoado, meaning in its appointed time, is used both in Num. 9:2, concerning the
Pascal lamb, and in Num. 28:2, concerning the daily offering (which includes the Sabbath); it is
thence inferred that the Pascal lamb may be offered on a Sabbath (coinciding with Pessach), even
though this entails activities forbidden on other Sabbaths.

It is obvious that such reasoning is highly intuitive and dependent on ones overall
context of knowledge. It is built up from the perception of words and the conception of

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

147

their possible relations. The initial insights into possible meanings derived from immediate
and wider context are conceptual acts dependent on the faculty of imagination; and
subsequent ordering of the data, though a relatively mechanical process, is a function of
the amount of data available at the time and taken into consideration. Such judgments can
in no wise, therefore, be considered to have deductive value, but are eminently inductive.
With regard to Biblical text, we have little material to refer to, other than the
document itself. This means that our conclusions are virtually pre-determined, since the
data available are finite, even if they constitute a sufficiently large and varied sample of the
Hebrew of the time concerned. Actually, sometimes a word or phrase is only used once in
the whole document, and its meaning becomes a subject of conjecture; obviously the more
often a label appears in the text, the more certain its meaning. With regard to Hebrew
usage later in history, it is of course very significant182, but it must be kept in mind that it
has been and still is culturally influenced by the interpretations suggested by the Rabbis,
and therefore it cannot necessarily be used to further justify those interpretations.
The natural interpretative process is adductive: an idea is floated, then tested in
every which way for consistency183. It is, for this reason, susceptible to abuse. One may too
easily stress similarities and ignore significant differences; and thereby stretch the
application of an idea beyond its rightful borders. Or again, one may ignore similarities and
emphasize incidental differences, and thus artificially restrict an idea. This is true of all
argument by analogy; and repeated consistency-checking in an ever wider context of
information provides the natural protection against error, as in all induction.
Now, such a relaxed and patient attitude can hardly be practical in a legal framework,
where some decisive position may be required right now. On the other hand, the necessity to
decide does not logically imply an impossibility to reverse the decision taken, later, in the context of
new knowledge or modified conditions. The Talmudic authorities had debated matters and come to
various conclusions which seemed wise to them. However, post-Talmudic authorities, intent on
preserving these very decisions, proposed additional clauses to the hermeneutic principles which
were to ensure they always resulted in the same conclusions, no matter how the data-context
changed.
Thus, in relation to gezerah shavah, they claimed that the Sages were occasionally
informed by tradition as to which topics were open to legal analogy, but left to find the verbal
analogy which would justify it; or again, that the Sages were in some instances informed of words
which could be used for such inference, but allowed to find appropriate circumstances for their use;
or again, that the Sages were told in advance the number of valid gezerah shavah arguments there
would be!184 Now, I find all that hard to believe. Not only because it is very surprising that such
alleged information is (apparently) not explicitly mentioned by the protagonists themselves, but
only makes its appearance in writing centuries later; but because the transmission scenario itself is
unreasonable.
Is it plausible that serious teachers would pass on vital legal information to their students in
the form of riddles? Why would they engage in such games, and not get to the point, if they had the
information? One cannot imagine a functioning law system in which it is not the law and its
justifications which are transmitted from generation to generation, but conundra. For then, one
would have to consider that the laws in question (i.e. those to be inferred by such means) had been
inoperative until their formulation in the Talmud. In which case, surely, the more basic thesis that
the law has gone on unaffected by time since Sinai - the very thesis these artifices were designed to
182

We are not here dealing with a dead language, so the job is less difficult.
e.g. does 'take' (qach) always signify acquisition by monetary payment, or must other
meanings of the term be supposed, and if so how are they to be distinguished? It is not enough that
an analogy is applied in one instance (without problems ensuing from that one application); it has to
be tested in all other cases where the term appears, throughout the text at hand.
184
The references given by Bergman for these three provisions are all post-Talmudic:
Halichos Olam for the first two, and Rabbeinu Tam and Tosafot for the third.
183

148

JUDAIC LOGIC
defend - would be put in doubt. It seems obvious, therefore, that the above mentioned additional
clauses are ex post facto constructs185, based on no actual oral or written tradition.
The controversies surrounding yet other additional clauses to the gezerah shavah process,
provide still more cause for suspicion that such additional clauses are not Sinai traditions, but later
constructs (in this case, Talmudic)186.
Thus, it is taught that the applicability of the gezerah shavah method depends on the
freedom of its middle term in one or both of its manifestations. This refers to whether each
manifestation of the middle term involved, through which a legal factor is to be passed over from
one issue to another, has already been utilized to justify some other Halakhah. Such a concern
presupposes a principle that each unit of information in the Torah can only serve for one
inference187; generic logic has no such restriction (a premise can be used in any number of
arguments), but let us grant it to be a tradition. On this basis, three possibilities are considered: that
the middle term is (a) free on both sides, (b) free on one side only, whether the source side or the
target side, or (c) free on neither side. Authorities say and agree among themselves that a gezerah
shavah inference of type (a) is irrefutable. With regard to type (b), some say it is always valid, while
others regard it as conditionally valid. With regard to type (c), some regard it as conditionally valid,
while others say it is always invalid.
Similarly, there is a debate as to how much legal detail a gezerah shavah allows us to pass
over from premise to conclusion. There is also a debate as to whether once legal data has been
transferred in one direction, other data may be transferred in the opposite direction, so as to equalize
both sides, or whether the process is more restricted. It is irrelevant to us, here, which opinions are
correct in these various debates - what is significant is simply the fact that there are at all disputes on
matters so crucial.
Regarding the freedom (mufneh) concept, an interesting remark may be added: it can be
viewed as an attempt, albeit a rather primitive one, to express the sort of syllogistic reasoning which
follows the drawing of analogies. The Rabbis ask: once a term A is seen as analogous to a term B
(gezerah shavah), can the laws applicable to A be applied to B and/or vice-versa? Their answers by
means of the freedom concept may be understood as follows.
If both terms are free, it means that they were never before used in syllogistic inferences,
presumably because they are both sui generis; consequently, the Rabbis assume them to be mutual
implicants, and allow syllogism hither and thither between them. If only one is free, the Rabbis
presume it to be a genus or species (I am not sure which) of the other, and thus allow syllogistic
inference of laws from the genus to the species, though not vice-versa. If neither is free, it means
that they have already led separate logical lives, so the Rabbis presume that the terms are
unconnected (or at least that neither implies the other), and so avoid syllogistic inference.
This perspective explains the Rabbis concept, but does not fully justify it. For the basis of
their syllogistic reasoning is too imprecise; they do not have a clear picture (even though this theory
arose long after Aristotle) of the conditions of syllogistic inference. Similarity between terms and
the histories of the use of such terms in inferences do not indubitably determine the implicational
relations between these terms. The Rabbis lacked a clear understanding of opposition theory, as we
shall see also in the section dealing with harmonization.

185

Or, to be more explicit: pretensions, lies - made in support of a certain ideology, that of
unchanging oral law. Note well the basis of my accusation: precisely in the attempt to buttress their
concept of the fullness and continuity of tradition, these people are forced to acknowledge the
occurrence, in the case under consideration, of incomplete transmission of information, and thus
imply a loss of data in the interim and the unreliability of the transfer. The proposed formulae are
therefore inconsistent with their own motive, and therefore must be inventions.
186
Enc. Jud. , p. 368, refers us to Shab. 64a and J.T. Yoma 8:3, 45a. Enc. Jud. explains the
development of the idea of "free" (mufneh) terms, as a way to prevent abuses of gezerah shavah in
the schools; it adds that this is a R. Ishmael requirement, which R. Akiba apparently disagreed with.
187
Not to be confused with the principle of R. Akiba that in the Torah no word is superfluous
and no word-placement is accidental.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

149

We may, in my opinion, place under one heading, namely inference from context,
the exegetic methods known as meinyano and misofo (Rule No. 12) and those known as
heqesh and semukhim (regarded as part of Rule No. 2). All these take into account the
textual closeness of an expression or sentence to certain other(s), and on this basis assume
that there exists a conceptual relation between the passages under scrutiny, which makes
possible an inference of certain attributes from the context to the expression or sentence.
There is, we might remark, a small element of inference by analogy in such processes188,
though it might be characterized as extrinsic rather than intrinsic. The differences between
these four techniques are, however, less clear (to me, at least).
An example of contextual inference: the Rabbis inferred (by the rule meinyano) that the
commandment thou shalt not steal in the Decalogue (Exod. 20:13), refers to kidnapping, on the
grounds that the two preceding commandments, against murder and adultery, are both capital
offenses, and kidnapping is the only form of stealing subject to the same penalty (Enc. Jud., which
refers to Mekh., Ba-Hodesh, 8,5).

Meinyano seems to loosely appeal to the surrounding subject-matter without

precise definition of its textual position relative to the passage at hand. Misofo refers to a
later clause or passage for the information it infers; though as some commentators have
pointed out, it could equally well refer to an earlier segment of text. In these two cases, the
conceptual common ground of source and target text is to some extent evident. In the case
of heqesh and semukhim, however, the inference is based almost purely on textual
contiguity, the contiguous passages (within the same verse or in two adjacent verses,
respectively) having little evident conceptual relation189.
The natural justification of logistical inferences would be what we today refer to as
association of ideas. When two ideas are placed next to each other in our thoughts,
speeches or writings, it may be because of some logical relation between them, or entirely
by accident, or again because one contains some incidental reminder of the other. This last
possibility implies that in some cases, even when purely logical considerations are lacking,
an inference might yet be drawn from the fact of proximity. However, the possibility of
chance conjunction still remains: topic X may be entirely spent and the narrative moves on
188

Note, however, that in some cases, traditionally classed as heqesh (see Abitbol, pp. 100104), Scripture itself explicitly establishes the parity between the two areas of law. For instance,
Deut. 22:26, which compares rape and murder, saying "for as when... even so..." (ki kaasher... ken
hadavar hazeh.). In such cases, an inference is much more certain, though it may well have some
limits, because it is analogical rather than contextual.
189
Heqesh and semukhim are classified by commentators with gezerah shavah; but I am not
sure why (except for analogies given explicitly in the text) - they are not really subcategories of it,
being based on neither homonymy nor synonymy, but on textual proximity. Perhaps it is because
they often involve elements of gezerah shavah, that they were rather grouped with it. Also note, the
distinction between them is ambiguous: in text originally devoid of punctuation, like the Torah, how
to tell the difference between the two parts of the same verse or two touching verses? It only
becomes meaningful once the subdivisions of the text are established.
Looking further into the issue, I found some interesting remarks in J.E. Apparently, gezerah
shavah initially referred to "analogies in either word or fact", but eventually was restricted to verbal
analogies (homonymies), while heqesh became used for factual analogies (synonymies). If that is
true, my presentation of these terms, based rather on Bergman's account, is inaccurate
(terminologically, though not in essence). With regard to semukhim, it is attributed by J.E. to R.
Akiba, quoting him as saying "every passage which stands close to another must be explained and
interpreted with reference to its neighbor" (with reference to Sifre Num. 131); it adds that 'according
to Ishmael, on the contrary, nothing may be inferred from the position of the individual sections'. In
view of this, semukhim cannot strictly-speaking be counted as implicitly included in the 13 Midot of
R. Ishmael.

150

JUDAIC LOGIC

to topic Y, an entirely separate topic190. This alternative possibility means that inference
based solely on position is tenuous. The Rabbis were apparently aware of this uncertainty,
and would use such processes only as a last resort, when the verse being interpreted
involved a doubt which they had no other way to resolve.
R. Ishmael did not mention the exegetic methods of heqesh and semukhim, and attempts by
later authorities to explain this silence have a hollow ring. Thus, Bergman (with reference to the
Sefer Hakerisus) says of R. Ishmael that he regarded the hekesh as the equivalent of an explicitly
written teaching. If R. Ishmael did not even mention the subject, how can the later Rabbis know by
tradition why he did not mention it. How can they have information on his thoughts on an unspoken
issue? The very notion is self-contradictory: proving again that the authorities often confuse their
personal assumption concerning some matter with a received tradition (refusing to admit that R.
Ishmael might not have known about these things, or that there might be no tradition concerning
them, and that such issues must be resolved adductively).191
Again, R. Ishmael, apparently (and as the name given to the process implies), did not
regard or was not aware that misofo inference was equally feasible in the opposite direction
(mitechilato, if we may say so), from an earlier to a later statement or clause. Later commentators
(Bergman refers to Middos Aharon), who considered such reverse inference possible, explain R.
Ishmaels silence by claiming, effectively, that in cases where the solution precedes the problem, the
inference is so obvious that listing it would have been a redundancy. That is another anachronistic
argument, whether we agree with the validity of such inference in both directions or not. The
commentators must admit the possibility that R. Ishmael did not hold the same opinion, or more
likely still (since he himself does not mention it) that he just did not think of the issue at all!

Inferences of the binyan av type (Rule No. 3) seem to be a Rabbinical attempt at

causal inference - using the term causal in its widest sense, including any mode of
causality; i.e. not only natural-mode causation, of motion or change, but also extensional
causality, of static (i.e. class) differences, as well as logical causality, or rational
explanation192. Causal inference has been much clarified in more recent times by John
190

A case in point seems to be the above given example (Exod. 20:13): supposedly the next
two commandments (against bearing false witness and coveting) are not subject to death penalty;
in that case, why should stealing (or kidnapping) be a capital offense? Of course, if a proposition is
surrounded on both sides by a certain subject-matter, it becomes more likely that the common
subject-matter of the two adjacent propositions somehow concerns the boxed-in proposition.
Nevertheless, the possibility of accidens remains; there may well be significant underlying
differences, which can be pointed to. An example is Exod. 21:15-17, where a law concerning
kidnapping is found between two laws concerning striking and cursing parents, respectively. (Note
that, as an acquaintance of mine, Dr. M. Izbicki, has pointed out, the laws on striking of parents and
kidnapping both concern violent acts. Also, see Cohen, p. 474; the law assigns a penalty of
strangulation for these two, but stoning for cursing parents).
191
Regarding heqesh and semukhim, Bergman adds additional details, which we will not
comment on, here, to avoid repetitions. I want only to point out that the semukhim inference he
gives as an example at the end of the section is very odd: from (Deut. 22:11) the proximity of the
prohibition of 'shatnez' and the prescription of 'tzitzit', the conclusion is drawn that shatnez is
allowed in the case of the tallit! This is far from normal inference, since the conclusion is an
exception to one of the premises, although there was no inconsistency between the premises.
Formally, the argument runs as follows: 'You mustn't do X. You must do Y. Therefore, when you do
Y, you may do X'. Since the conclusion formally implies 'you may do X' it is contradictory to the
major premise; such argument thus depends on an anti-literal particularization of the major
premise.
192
Our identification of binyan av with causal arguments may be too narrow; some examples
in the literature seem like mere extrapolations with nary an underlying cause and effect thoughtprocess (though we might construct one, ex post facto). An example given by Scherman illustrates
this: Just as one may neither marry one's sister from the same two parents, nor one's father's full
sister; then, since one may not marry one's sister from the same mother but different father, 'it
follows that' one may not marry one's father's maternal half-sister (ref. to Yevamos, 54b).

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

151

Stuart Mill193, who identified the methods of agreement and difference. It results from
observation of two kinds of events or things, such that the presence of one is always
accompanied by the presence of the other, and therefore that the absence of the latter is
always accompanied by the absence of the former. In such circumstance, one may, from
observation of the first event or thing, presume the second even when it is not observable.
This is an inductive process, involving analogy and generalization. Symbolically, broadlyspeaking, the essential relation between a cause C and an effect E may be expressed by a
hypothetical proposition and its contraposite:
If C, then E (and if not E, then not C).
However, the Rabbinical attempts at formulation of this natural principle stressed
more the side of agreement than that of difference. R. Ishmael refers to an inference
from one verse or from two verses. There were subsequently disputes as to the meaning
of these subdivisions (which disputes, incidentally again tend to show the lack of a clear
oral tradition). Some Rabbis understood them, respectively, as follows: if two topics (X, Y)
have a certain feature (A) in common, then another feature (B) which the one (X) has may
be assumed to be had by the second (Y)194; or, if three topics (X, Y, Z) have a certain
feature (A) in common, then another feature (B) which two of them (X, Y) have may be
assumed to be had by the third (Z). Other Rabbis claimed to understand R. Ishmaels
formula differently195. They sought for a common feature196 (A, say) of topics under
comparison (X, Y) which would explain their having in common some other property (B),
in which case the reappearance of that same feature (A) elsewhere (in Z) could be taken as
a sign of the same property (B) there (i.e. in Z). In fact, this formula is formally identical to
the second of the above mentioned197, merely adding the (valuable) comment that A is to be
considered as the cause of B.
The difficulty in these statements is their emphasis on the positive, their attempt to
generalize from a limited sample (X, or X and Y) without readiness to conceive the
possibility of deviation from the apparently set pattern of conjunction (of A and B) in other
Scherman says binyan av is also known as mah matsinu? ("what have we found?"), though
Bergman informs us that these two were counted separately in Hillel's list. I suspect the Rabbis at
first engaged in generalizations with little reflection, and then gradually found it necessary to clarify
conditions.
193
English logician (1806-1873), author of A System of Logic (1847). Mill's formulation of
these methods is more complicated than the one proposed here: 'agreement' is observed constant
conjunction of two phenomena, 'difference' is the constant conjunction of their negations; thus, the
formal relationship is mutual, i.e. the same in both directions: this is the strongest form of causality,
in which the cause is not only sufficient for the effect, but necessary or a sine qua non for it. Note
that, in all such definitions (as Mill was aware), cause and effect are difficult to distinguish: to do so,
we must look at their temporal or conceptual sequence. Note also that Mill suggested other
important methods, namely 'residues' (elimination of alternatives) and 'concomitant variations' (see
Appendix 1, section 3).
194
This approach is known as Chada mechada (Aram., 'one from one'). If the one-verse
variant is so called, then the two-verse variant may presumably be called 'one from two' (but I do
not know what it was actually called).
195
According to Bergman, this second school claimed the one-from-one inferences obvious
and not needing to be included in the 13 Midot. How they viewed the 'one from two' formula, he
does not say.
196
Heb. tsad hashaveh.
197
Added proof of which is the lack of distinction, in the 'common feature' approach, between
one-verse and two-verse inference in accordance with R. Ishmael's formula. That is, if in this
approach 'one-verse' means 'one from two', then what might 'two-verses' mean?

152

JUDAIC LOGIC

cases, including, in particular, the case at hand (Y, or Z, respectively)198. Apparently sensing
this weakness, the Rabbis tried to put a bit more emphasis on the negative, by pointing out
differences in features between the (two or three) topics under scrutiny, thereby hoping to
demonstrate other possible causes have been considered and eliminated. Thus, they might
say, in the two-verse form of binyan av: X has C and Y lacks C, so that Z having C does
not prove it has B; or again, X lacks D and Y has D, so that Z having D does not prove it
has B. However, it should be clear that such statements are irrelevant to the main
argument: they at best prove only that C or D do not cause B, but do not prove that A does
cause B199.
An example of binyan av, given in Enc. Jud. (referring to B.M. 87b). The Rabbis attempt,
with reference Deut. 23:25f., to determine whether a hired farm hand may eat produce, while
working in fields other than those with vines or standing corn. To do so, they try to understand why
the Torah allows him to eat in vineyards and in cornfields. They argue: it cannot be in relation to the
obligation to leave gleanings for the poor (Lev. 19:10), since this applies to vine but not corn; and it
cannot be in relation to the obligation to give the priest a portion of the dough (Num. 15:17-21),
since this applies to corn but not vine; therefore, it must be simply due to their being both plants,
and the permission may be generalized to other produce.200

It appears from such redundancies that the Rabbis confused somewhat the trial and
error mental process of looking for a cause (ratio cognoscendi), and the formal conditions
of the objective causal relationship (ratio essendi). Had they known the latter clearly, they
would rather have systematically first made sure they had a complete enumeration of the
appearances of features A and B in the Torah, alone and/or separately, as well as their
negations if any. Then, to make possible the inference from A to B, in situations where A
is mentioned in the text but B is not mentioned, they would have to check, not only that A
and B are sometimes both affirmed together (at least once, but the more the better), but
also that A is never affirmed with an explicit denial of B (that is the missing negative
element). Furthermore, the probability-rating of the inference would be proportional to the
frequency of conjunction of A and B, compared to that of A mentioned alone without
mention of B201. It is possible that in the cases where the Rabbis applied this principle, they
(who knew the Torah by heart) automatically performed these consistency tests and
probability judgments; but they did not always do so explicitly.
It must be stated that aetiology does not insist that the cause be one event or thing, or that
the effect be one event or thing; each of these (cause or effect) may itself be two or more parallel
things or events, provided the stated rules of induction (agreement and difference) are adhered to for
198

Logicians refer to the underlying logical fallacy as post hoc ergo propter hoc (i.e. 'after this,
therefore because of this').
199
Unless, of course, it is already proven that A, C, D are the only alternative possible causes
of B; so that the inference consists in elimination of two out of three possibilities. But that is not
everywhere the case.
200
The logical naivety of such argument should be obvious. Say a boss calls three of his
employees to his office (intending, say, to congratulate the first for his new-born son, give a raise to
the second, and fire the third). No one knows the boss's reasons, but the third employee tries to
guess why he has been invited, by looking for a 'common factor' in the two others. He says: "it
cannot have to do with hair colour for the first is blond and the second is a brunette; it cannot have
to do with honesty, because the first is dishonest and the second is honest; it must therefore have
to do with nose shape, because both, and indeed I too, have the same nose shape." His whole
argument is utterly fallacious and beside the point!
201
For it always remains conceivable that non-mention of B in certain passages signifies
negation of B, even though there are no known cases of presence of A with absence of B, which
fact inductively allows us (indeed, obligates us) to generalize and say that A implies B.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

153

them all singly. Furthermore, if the rules of induction are not invariably adhered to (whether by a
single event or thing or many of them), they might still be found to apply conditionally or
compositely: that is, provided we manage to identify and distinguish the conditions under which our
partial causes become complete causes or our occasional effects become constant effects202.
Consequently, too, there may be circumstances in which one event or thing is the cause of a certain
effect and other circumstances in which another is so; or again, a certain event or thing has some
effect in one set of circumstances, and another effect in another set.
These details of causal logic were apparently not entirely understood by the Rabbis,
judging from certain limiting suggestions they made. One such Rabbinic limitation was that (with
reference to the symbols introduced above)203 if X and Y have in common yet another feature (E,
say) which Z lacks, then Z cannot be assumed to have B. I say, viewing A+E as a joint feature, this
objection seems reasonable; but it still remains possible that A causes B. Another Rabbinic
limitation was the rejection of the possibility that distinct features of X and Y, such as C and D (see
above), may independently cause B in their respective subjects, so that Z, which has only the
common feature A, but neither of the distinct features C, D, may not have B. I say, it is conceivable
that the two compounds A+C+nonD and A+nonC+D might be parallel causes, while the
compound A+nonC+nonD is not a cause: the issue depends on the negative side, which they
ignored in their initial definition204. Such attempts at exception show, to repeat, that the Rabbis were
not certain as to the precise conditions of causality205.

There is a manifest failure of theoretical research in logic, independent of any

Torah related doctrines, by the Rabbinic authorities. Consequently, as may be expected,
there is a lot of controversy between them on methodological issues (which, of course,
ultimately affect the law); and worse still, sometimes the controversy revolves around a
totally artificial issue (which naturally enough emerges from some general belief to which
the disputants are all attached). What amazes me is that the existence of such controversies
does not cause any of the people involved to frankly question the orthodox doctrine that
the hermeneutic principles, in their entirety, are Sinaitic revelations.
A case in point is the discussion concerning the two verses coming as one principle,
according to which if a law L is stated in relation to two subjects, S1 and S2, and logically L(S1)
implies L(S2), and/or vice-versa, so that one of the statements is redundant, then L may only be
applied to the two situations specified. This principle has no natural basis, as far as I can see; i.e. it
does not formally follow that L(S1) and/or L(S2) cannot logically imply some other, unstated
application, say L(S3). If such implication does logically occur, it cannot be inhibited by Divine or
Rabbinical fiat (God does not contradict His own natural laws, nor allow them to be by-passed by

202

Conditional/partial causes, considered together with their conditions or allied parts (i.e.
collectively), constitute unconditional/complete causes. Occasional effects, in loosely defined
surrounding circumstances, become constant effects, when the significant circumstances are more
precisely pin-pointed. All such variations on the theme of causality are obvious to anyone who has
studied hypothetical logic, considering multiples and compounds of antecedents and consequents,
and nesting; it is no great secret (at least nowadays).
203
Where X, Y, Z have in common A, and X, Y have in common B; and they would conclude
that Z has B, also.
204
It does not surprise me, therefore, that, according to Bergman, 'the Gemara does
occasionally raise such a refutation'. He adds that 'the commentators (to Kesubos 32a) have
formulated principles to explain these exceptions'; I have not seen these principles, but we must
keep in mind that they are ex post facto rationalizations, since natural logic allows alternative
causes.
205
Another issue they raise is whether the exceptions have to be 'significant' or not - claiming
that refutation of a 'one from one' binyan av requires a legal exception ('stringency or leniency'),
whereas against a 'one from two' binyan av, any exception (legal or non-legal) will do. I can only
say that such a distinction is not made by natural logic.

154

JUDAIC LOGIC
humans) 206; for this reason, the restriction must be classed as artificial. Analytically, it seems to be
merely an outcome of R. Akibas claim that there is no superfluous statement in the Torah; which
idea is itself controversial, since R. Ishmael (theoretically) rejects it, claiming that the Torah speaks
in the language of men. Whatever its source, there is controversy concerning the precise formulation
of the proposed principle, from Mishnah onward. Some authorities (among them Tosafot) claim that
at least two redundancies are required for such restriction. Some (among them Rashi) say that the
restriction is in any case not general to all inference, but limited to attempts to extend the law
concerned by means of binyan av inference. But I see no formal basis for these subjacent disputes,
either.

The deep intellectual cause of such deviations from natural logic is, in my opinion,
initially a naive non-formalism, gradually developing into a systematic anti-formalism
(which is also naive, in other respects). The historical cause is an unfortunate, at first
emotional and later ideological, antipathy to what they called Greek knowledge, which
blocked any attempt to learn from the discoveries of others. For these people, logic has to
adapt to the requirements of pre-conceived contents (the Halakhah), rather than all contents
yielding to the dictates of an objective, formal logic. This Rabbinic claim of total control is
evident, for instance, in Bergmans statement in this context: The rules regarding
Scriptural texts... reveal a law only in relation to the place they are applied and not
elsewhere.
The doctrine of the Sinaitic origin of Rabbinic hermeneutics is not primary, but a
derivative of the doctrine of the Sinaitic origin of Rabbinic law. The Rabbis thought they
could manipulate logic however they saw fit, so long as they arrived at the required legal
results. Controversies occurred only in relation to the necessity or efficacy of this or that
manipulation, but not in relation to the underlying epistemological assumption.
These reflections need not be taken radically. Our concern, here, is with Judaic
logic as such, not with Jewish law. If we throw doubt on the former, it does not necessarily
follow that all, or any, of the latter is wrong; for, as logic teaches, denial of the antecedent
(in this case, some aspects of Rabbinic hermeneutics), does not imply denial of the
consequent (in this case, Rabbinic law) - unless their relationship happens to be exclusive.
A law may be correct (i.e. truly Divinely-willed), but improperly derived from the text (i.e.
from the wrong place or in the wrong manner). A law may, of course, alternatively, be
incorrect, as well as improperly derived. These are not matters which can be dealt with in
general ways; but each case must be reviewed carefully, after which the consistency of the
whole must also be verified. In any case, logic cannot itself be made an issue of faith,
something optional.
A statistical note. I have not so far found out just how many times each form of
exegesis described here is actually used in the Talmud and other Rabbinic literature. For
the moment, here is some information gleaned from the Index Volume of the Soncino
edition (1952) of the Babylonian Talmud. As we saw in an earlier chapter, this index
contains some 137 references to qal vachomer argument (under various headings). With
regard to various forms of argument by analogy, there are some 161 references (analogy,
deduction by, 58; comparisons, for purpose of deriving laws, 1; gezerah shawah, 81;
hekkesh, 17; semukin, 1; texts, proximity of, 2; textual reading, 1). Whether this index is
complete, and whether each reference concerns a distinct sample or there are repetitions,

206

I refer here, of course, to deductive logic; if the 'implication' is merely inductive, i.e. not
necessary but only recommended as probable, it might conceivably be preempted with reference to
wider considerations.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

155

and whether some references relate merely to theoretical discussions, I cannot venture to
say207.
Note also that we must distinguish between use of an argument: (i) within the Bible
itself (e.g. we know of four or five cases of qal vachomer in the Torah, and two dozen
more in the rest of the Bible); (ii) by the Rabbis, especially those of the Talmud, in their
efforts of exegesis from the Bible, as a document, of Halakhic or Hagadic material; and
(iii) by the Rabbis, especially post-Talmudic ones, in relation to the non-exegetic
pronouncements of other Rabbis. Clearly, the statistical question constitutes a large and
difficult research project in itself.

3.

Scope of Terms.

Obviously,

in the reading of any text, understanding the terms used is of the

essence. This has two aspects: a qualitative aspect, which by its very nature presupposes
knowledge of the language involved, and a quantitative aspect, which relates to
determinations of scope. Rabbinic tradition has, of course, had much to say about both
these aspects. The first aspect, elucidation of the denotations and connotations of terms, is
in part dealt with within the hermeneutic principles, by way of inferences by analogy and
context; and in part, it depends on cultural and religious tradition and the insights of
commentators. The second aspect, concerning subsumptive issues, is covered by a set of
hermeneutic principles which we shall now consider.

The methods of exegesis known as collectively klalim uphratim208, are efforts to

interpret the effective subsumption of logically overlapping terms found in the Torah (and
thence applicability of the proposition(s) involving those terms). Miklal uphrat (Rule No.
4) is the interpretation of a genus + species combination, in that sequence, as having a
limiting effect, signifying only the species mentioned (the species is mentioned for
purposes of excluding others of the same genus); whereas miprat ukhlal (Rule No. 5) is
the interpretation of a species + genus combination, in that sequence, as having an
enlarging effect, signifying the species mentioned and others like it (the species is
mentioned as a sample of those in the genus). An easy way to remember these two rules is
to say that the result is equal to the second of the two given terms. Other such rules, as we
shall see, have an overall limiting result.
To put us into the picture let us note that, in everyday discourse, we would (depending on
the precise wording) understand the conjugate scope of logically overlapping terms as follows,
granting that G is an overclass and S1, S2... one or more of its subclasses, and that G and G are two
classes which partly intersect without either subsuming all of the others instances and S, say, is the
entire subclass referring to the G part of G. A statement whose subject is GS or SG would be

207

See also, possibly, the items: exegetical principles, 2 references; rules by which law is
expounded, 2; texts, exposition of, 3; texts, implication of, 1.
208
This phrase is wrongly translated by Bergman as "generalizations and specifications"; we
would prefer "generalities and particularities" or "genera and species". Strictly speaking, the term
generalization, in English, refers to a mental process moving from a particular statement to a
general one, and specification refers to a movement from a vague statement to a more precise
one. Here, however, the issue is finding out how wide or narrow was the intent of the writer of the
text.

156

JUDAIC LOGIC
interpreted minimally as concerning the species S209, though in some cases the genus G might be
appropriate. G such as S1, S2... might be read as S1, S2... (if such as is taken to mean similar
to) or as G (if such as is taken to mean for examples). A listing of the form S1, S2... indeed
G would likely be intended as G, though without a qualifier like indeed, a doubt might subsist.
Lastly, GG or GG is usually intended as G and G (i.e. S, their common ground), though
occasionally might mean G or G (including both their grounds, as well as S or even possibly to
the exclusion of S).
There is evidently much vagueness in ordinary language, which logical science can easily
overcome by instituting conventions. This field of inquiry is not class logic proper, but a linguistic
preliminary to it. Note that a mental act of reconciliation of conflicts is involved, insofar as the
terms dealt with are in some tension, according as we understand reference to a genus as concerning
the whole of it (davqa) or most or an unspecified portion of it (lav davqa), and reference to a species
as concerning it at least (lav davqa) or it exclusively (davqa). When the terms are mentioned
together as subjects of propositions, there is therefore doubt as to whether the result is a generality, a
contingency or an indefinite particularity. The logical rule, in case of doubt, is to acknowledge, by
dilemmatic argument, the indefinite particularity (at least some) as true; deductively, we remain
open-minded as to whether the generality (all) or contingency (some, but not all) is true; inductively,
we opt for the generality, because it introduces no new polarity, unless or until conflicting evidence
is found.

For the Rabbis, in the klal uphrat case, the genus is mentioned as a first
approximation of the meaning intended, and the species is added to more precisely pinpoint that meaning. For instance, in Lev. 1:2, of the livestock (behemah), of the herd and
of the flock, the general term is one of variable connotation (it could be taken to include
other types of animal, such as asses perhaps) and is clarified by means of the mentioned
species. To explain why the species were not simply mentioned alone, without the genus,
we are told that extensions unintended by the writer might then have been proposed, or
alternatively that certain details suggested by the genus might have been missed; opinions
differ among the authorities on this point. We could accept an amalgam of both as
reasonable: the genus is there, effectively, to say but do not include with these species,
other dissimilar species of the same genus.210
In the prat ukhlal case, some species are first listed to indicate the kind of thing
intended, and the genus is added in conclusion to indicate and other things of the same
kind to be also intended. For example, in Exod. 22:9, an ass or an ox or a sheep, or any
beast (behemah), the species exemplify the things intended and the genus serves to extend
the application of the law concerned to other similar things, implying the initial list not to
be exhaustive. To explain why the genus was not simply mentioned alone, without the
species, we are told that exceptions unintended by the writer might then have been
proposed, or alternatively that certain details suggested by the species might have been
missed; opinions differ among the authorities on this point. We could again accept an
amalgam of both as reasonable: the species are there, effectively, to say and be sure not to
exclude from this genus, other similar species of the same genus.
These methods, and other variations (mentioned below), are R. Ishmaels; R. Akiba
proposed others in the same contexts: he determined the scope of statements with reference to the
principles of ribui umiut and miut uribui (amplification and limitation, and vice-versa). The
technical difference between these approaches is essentially one of emphasis. Whereas in klal
209

Note, however, that in English an adjective usually precedes a noun, while in Hebrew if
follows it.
210
A way to explain the mention of the overclass is to regard it as intended to allude to its
instances or subclasses not included in (or alluded to by) the mentioned subclass; which are to be
the subject of an unstated proposition of opposite polarity, which makes the stated particular a
contingent.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

157

uphrat, the mention of species serves to more precisely define the initial genus; in ribui umiut, the
explicit mention of species stresses the exclusion of certain dissimilar things, not explicitly
mentioned, belonging to the initial genus. And whereas in prat ukhlal, the final genus serves to more
broadly define the full extent of the list of species, adding to those explicitly mentioned more
species not explicitly mentioned, while also incidentally somewhat limiting, as all definitions do,
excessive extrapolations; in miut uribui, the mention of the genus stresses the limits of extrapolation
more, excluding certain unmentioned species of it too extremely dissimilar to the mentioned species,
while also incidentally suggesting certain unmentioned species to be included211.

These forms of interpretation seem to me natural enough in themselves. In many

cases, the wording is clear and no discussion is possible, anyway. However, in some cases,
the results do not seem formally inevitable: one might sometimes view genus+species as
signifying genus, of which a sample species is...212, and species+genus as signifying
species, of which the relevant genus is...213; in such cases, note, the term mentioned in
second place is effectively in brackets, suggesting a proposition which communicates, in
passing, some incidental information (not necessarily of immediate legal relevance).
Consequently, if we take the rules as ex cathedra pronouncements, and attempt to always
tailor our interpretations to fit their given formats, we are not unlikely to be occasionally
misled. Clearly, behind such regulations is the rigid mode of thought which denies stylistic
license to a document of Divine origin 214

With regard to the other combinations and permutations of these inferences of

scope (classed as Rule No. 6), notably klal uphrat ukhlal and (apparently a later
addition215) prat ukhlal uphrat, we need only add the following comments. These involve
successive operation of the preceding two principles, with the klal stages having a
broadening effect, and the prat stages a narrowing effect, the overall result being relatively
narrow216. There is a proportionately greater opportunity to force the text into preconceived
211

Albeit the theoretical formal convergence between these approaches, they in practice often
led to divergent material conclusions (with R. Akiba's often ending up as Halakhah). I would need
more specific knowledge of the Talmudic debates concerned to be able to explain why. But,
assuming I have correctly understood the formalities and basing myself on the few cases I have
studied, I would say that such differences simply go to show the amount of subjectivity involved in
the 'inferences', in practice.
212
e.g. 'logical arguments, syllogism, adductions, are means to knowledge' does not restrict
the genus to the listed species. One might construct a sentence in this way, if one thought some
auditors unable to grasp the generic subject's name without apposition of some more familiar
species names.
213
e.g. 'Aristotle's syllogism, a deductive argument, yields categorical conclusions' does not
intend the genus as a whole but only the species. The genus, here, serves only to place the
specific subject in a larger context.
214
It is interesting to note that the rationalistic philosophy, trying to explain every word and
word placement in a certain preconceived manner, which is assigned to R. Akiba, is here, and in
other instances, really at the basis of R. Ishmael's inferences, as well as R. Akiba's.
215
It is noteworthy that R. Ishmael mentioned only the first of these as one of his rules,
ignoring the second and also klal-klal-prat and prat-prat-klal. My explanation of such repeated gaps
in R. Ishmael's list is simple: as often in the early stages of an investigation, thinkers do not initially
work out an exhaustive analysis of the topic concerned with reference to symmetries, but rather
concentrate on cases which happen to arise before them in the context of their less abstract
concerns. It is only later that they, or their successors, look into other possible combinations and
permutations suggested by reshuffling the terms at hand. R. Ishmael did not get around to that
systematizing stage; his successors did. (All well and good; what is annoying is their attempts to
justify their results by imputing them anachronistically to him.)
216
A technical distinction suggested by the Rabbis between the two stated principles is that,
quoting Bergman, the first "dictates that every item which bears even one similarity to the
specification is included," whereas in the second "the item to be included must resemble the
specification in at least two aspects." He adds: "How significant the resemblance had to be was left

158

JUDAIC LOGIC

formats, rather than interpreting it naturally. It seems to me that we should always try to
grasp the simple reading (pshat), and avoid deviation from it without overwhelming
justification.
An example: Num. 6:3-4 forbids the Nazirite from drinking wine or strong drink or their
vinegars or liquor of grapes, or eating fresh or dried grapes or anything made from the grapevine,
from the kernels (chartsanim) to the husks (zag)217. According to Bergman, Nazir 34b reads this
passage as prat ukhlal uphrat, but this seems to me unjustifiable, if strong drink (shekhar, which
can make one drunk) refers to alcoholic beverages other than wine and such. For in that case, wine
and strong drink cannot be wholly regarded as a prat in relation to products of the vine, which is a
klal at best only in relation to wine and other grape-based drinks, fresh or dried grapes, and kernels
and husks. The way all these items are listed is natural enough, in three classes grouping together
alcoholic drinks (not all grape-based), normally eaten forms of grape, and parts normally wasted by
the consumer, respectively, and additionally mentioning a wider class which most (but not all) of the
items fall under. To insist on fitting them into the format prat ukhlal uphrat is artificial and
inaccurate.218

We should also mention here the principles miklal hatsarikh liphrat and miprat
hatsarikh likhlal (general term requiring a particular complement, and particular term
requiring a general complement), which R. Ishmaels list groups together as one (Rule
No. 7)219. We may classify these, as Bergman does (presumably following previous
authorities), with the klalim uphratim. The distinction between them is, he suggests,
effectively: whereas klal uphrat and prat ukhlal and their ilk concern the collective effect
of separately clear terms, the hatsarikh rules relate to vague terms whose precise meaning
is only clarified by their mutual impact on each other. This distinction is very fine indeed,
and rather forced judging by the examples given in the literature220.
I would say, rather, that a case could be made for distinguishing between functionally
independent terms (broadly speaking, classes of entities, which may however have a hierarchical
relation; e.g., animals and bulls) and dependent terms (more precisely, a relatively independent
term, like bulls, and its complementary clauses; e.g. the horns of or the goring of people by).
The relation between independents is at best simply subsumptive (bulls are animals), whereas the
relation between dependents is a more complex one, like possession or action (bulls have horns and
bulls gore people)221. The former supplement each other, the latter complement each other. I do not
mean to say that the Rabbis did classify their inferences under this or that heading on the basis of the
distinction I am proposing (though perhaps they were trying to), but rather that if they insisted on
for the Sages to determine. Occasionally, they considered several aspects as one." Here again, I
must say, I see no natural basis for these added details.
217
These words are variously understood by the Rabbis.
218
Another kind of example is Num. 18:16, which according to Bergman is interpreted in
Shevuot 4b as klal ukhlal uphrat. Here, the forcing consists in reading a subject, predicate and
qualification of predicate as classes (broad, broader and narrower), ignoring entirely their relative
positions (logical roles) in the sentence.
219
Why he should do so, when he separated klal uphrat and prat ukhlal, is a mystery to me; or
alternatively, why were not the latter two and their multiples grouped together, similarly? I would
suggest, here again, a failure to stand back from accumulated knowledge and re-order and
systematize the results obtained.
220
For instance, the example from Lev. 1:2 given earlier would, according to Bergman's
definitions, constitute a klal hatsarikh liphrat rather than a klal uphrat, as well as I can tell. Note,
however, that Bergman hints that 'there are many varying opinions' concerning the definition of
hatsarikh processes; so we might reserve judgment.
221
This distinction is reminiscent of that which logicians make, between categorematic and
syncategorematic terms, though not exactly identical. Note that, unlike independent terms,
dependent terms are not conjoined by a mere 'and', but by more intricate relations like 'of', 'by', 'for',
'through'.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (I)

159

making some kind of subdivision of the phenomena at hand, they might relatively usefully have
selected it instead of the above mentioned222. I say insisted, because my distinction too is not
radical enough to justify the formulation of additional hermeneutic rules. For one can usually (and
much formal logic is based on this operation), perform what is known to logicians as a
permutation223, and change the complementary term into an independent one (bulls are hornhaving things and bulls are goring things).

A note on statistics. The Soncino general index has 77 references to the topic of
klalim uphratim (supposedly, but I did not check). These come under various headings:
amplification, 5; amplification and limitation, 15; amplification following amplification, 2;
extension in exegesis, 5; general principles and exceptions, 1; general rulings, 2;
generalisation, 2; generalisation and specification, 28; limitation in exegesis, 6; rule,
general and particular, 1; rule, extension and limitation, 1; ribbui, 1; ribbui umiut, 1;
specification, 1; specification as exegetical rule, 2; specification and generalisation, 4. As
before remarked (in the discussion of Talmudic a-fortiori), to what extent such a list is
exhaustive and non-repetitive, is hard to say without further investigation. In any case, it
does not tell us precisely how many times each rule is actually used.

222

A Torah example might be Num 18:16: "according to your valuation, five silver shekels"
(mentioned in an earlier note), where 'five silver shekels' makes no sense by itself, apart from the
concept of 'valuation' (in this case, for redemption purposes).
223
It should be noted, however, that certain terms, which are colloquially put in a similar
format (notably, 'capabilities of' and 'metamorphosis of') cannot be freely permuted without causing
eventual contradictions. But such issues cannot be addressed in so narrow a context; they are
fields of logic in themselves.

160

JUDAIC LOGIC

11. THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II).

In this second part of our analysis of the Thirteen Midot of R. Ishmael, we shall
deal with Rules 8-11 and 13.

4.

Harmonization.

Broadly put, the five remaining hermeneutic principles, which we shall label
harmonization rules, serve to resolve apparent redundancies, discrepancies, doubts,
tensions or inconsistencies between propositions. In some cases, their results are identical
with those of formal logic; in some cases, they favour a course which is only a possibility
among others according to formal logic; and in some cases, they suggest a course which
formal logic would not have recommended. Note that these principles constitute units of
thought-process, which may be operative individually in simple situations, or eventually
successively in complex combinations.
Note that my formal analysis in this section is based on a possibly limited sample, drawn
from the derivative literature on the topic that I have consulted. The few examples which are there
presented as representative of the Rabbinic tradition may not be fully representative of that tradition.
Furthermore, even if these examples are fully representative, it remains possible, indeed likely, that
direct and thorough empirical research into the Talmud and other Rabbinic literature would reveal a
much larger variety of forms of thinking, legitimate or not, in actual use224. The observations of the
Rabbis of the past 2,000 years interested in these matters, and their conceptualizations and
classifications of what they noticed, need not be taken for granted. On the contrary, as we show
here, their failure to use formal methods make it very probable that they missed some of the
available data and misjudged the data they had. Much work can still be done, and it is hoped that my
initial efforts will be pursued further by others.
It should be noted that none of the harmonization rules here dealt with are mentioned in the
Soncino index225. So I have no inkling how often these rules are actually used in the Talmud.

Our interest here, note well, is not in the legal issues as such, but in the logical
structure of the exegesis. I have no Halakhic ax to grind; my purpose is to institute a
methodology for clarifying, classifying and evaluating Rabbinic exegesis, with reference
both to its theoretical and practical aspects (that is, R. Ishmaels rules and their explanation
by Rabbis, on the one hand, and examples of their application in Talmud and other
Rabbinic literature, on the other hand). Our empirical data consists of traditional
pronouncements and actions, but our analytic approach to this data will be strictly
objective and scientific.
224

A case in point was indicated in the previous chapter (footnote 15): the inference, from the
prohibition of shatnez and the prescription of tzitzit, that shatnez is allowed in the case of the tallit.
But also, previously and further on, we find many tacit inferences in Rabbinic thought, which though
allied to explicited principles, are not themselves aspects of those principles.
225
Though possibly "text, superfluous", which has only one reference, applies.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

161

We shall now deal with the first three (actually, four) of the hermeneutic principles
which begin with the phrase kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa... (Rules No. 8-10),
which means literally anything which was in a generality and came out...226. Broadly put,
in formal terms, these rules are concerned with the following exegetic situation:
Given:
All S1 are P1
and All S2 are P2
where All S2 are S1, but not all S1 are S2,
and P1 and P2 are in some relation f{P1, P2}

(major premise),
(minor premise),
(subjectal premise)227,
(predicatal premise).

What are resulting relations:

between S1 and P1, and between S2 and P2, other than the above given;
and between S1 and P2, and between S2 and P1
(conclusions)?
This, then, concerns two subalternative subjects (S1 and S2, whose genus-species relation
is defined in what we shall call the subjectal premise), which are found in Scripture separately
related to two distinct predicates (P1 and P2, whose relation is defined in what we shall call the
predicatal premise) 228. The given relation of the genus (S1, the major subject) to its predicate (P1,
the major predicate) will be called the major premise; while that of the species (S2, minor subject) to
its respective predicate (P2, the minor predicate) will be called the minor premise. The question
asked is, what information can be inferred concerning the various subjects and predicates
(conclusions)? For us, this question is two-fold: (a) what conclusions does Rabbinic tradition
propose, and (b) what conclusions does pure logic propose; comparing these sets, we might find
them to coincide or intersect or entirely diverge.
The major and minor premises are given explicitly in Scripture (presumably, though it is
conceivable that they be only implicit, provided they are derived from the text purely deductively).
The subjectal premise may be textually given (or, again, strictly implied), or, as often happens, it
may simply be obvious (natural knowledge); likewise, for the predicatal premise. The form of the
latter relation, f(P1, P2), varies from rule to rule, and of course will affect the conclusions drawn.
One of P1 and P2 may be subordinate to the other, or they may imply each other (being identical, or
logically implicant); or P1 and P2 may be otherwise compatible (subcontrary or unconnected), or
they may be incompatible (contradictory or contrary).
As for the conclusions proposed, we shall see how they vary, and are generated, as we
proceed; note that they may be inductive, as well as deductive. It should be remarked that in
Rabbinic exegesis, one or more of the premises may be altered in the course of the argument: an
initially general proposition may end up as contingent or as exclusive; such changes must be
counted as conclusions (or part of the overall conclusion), too.
226

Note that these rules differ from the klalim uphratim in that, rather than concerning the
mutual impact of terms, they concern the mutual impact of propositions, estimated by careful
scrutiny of the subjects and predicates they involve, as well as their various other formal features
(polarity, quantity, modality, etc.).
227
Note carefully that it is the narrower subject S2 that implies the wider subject S1; for that
reason, we say that S1 is subaltern to S2. On the other hand, since S1 includes S2, we say that S2
is subordinate to S1.
228
If two propositions have identical (or at least, logically implicant) subjects (both S, say),
these rules do not apply. In such case, we are dealing with ordinary 'oppositional logic', so that the
opposition of the propositions is in principle identical with the opposition of the predicates.
However, if the quantity differs in the two premises, then it might be argued that their subjects are
not technically equivalent, but merely subalternative (all S = S1 and some S = S2). Whether in the
latter case the Rabbis would apply the rules in question, I do not know.

162

JUDAIC LOGIC

Needless to say, the Rabbis never formulated their rules in such formal terms; I
have expressed them in this manner to clarify them and evaluate them with certainty. R.
Ishmaels definitions (roughly, but passably) specify the major, minor and subjectal
premises, as well as (though not always clearly) the putative conclusions, in ordinary
language. But they do not specify, or do not more than hint at, the predicatal premises,
which must be more or less guessed at, with reference to traditional examples; our
hypotheses in this regard are confirmed by the symmetry and exhaustiveness of the
combinations they postulate. As for logical evaluation, R. Ishmael and his contemporaries
and successors do not make any effort at, or demonstrate any skill in, formal analysis of the
processes; we will endeavor to fill the gap.
Furthermore, I very much doubt that these hermeneutic procedures were mechanically
applied wherever their respective formal conditions were found; rather, I suspect, they were treated
as a set of tools, which could be used, or ignored, as convenient, provided the Rabbis all approved. It
is hard to imagine how they could proceed otherwise, because as we shall see the conclusions they
draw are more often than not logically unnecessary (if not, in some contexts, illogical); whence it
follows that inconsistencies are bound to arise in some cases, calling for a retreat from previous
exegetic acts which caused the trouble. But to prove this prediction, one would have to study the
Talmud in much more detail than I have done; ideally, one would need a well-ordered list of all the
cases where exegesis took place.

Now, by means of syllogism, we can without further ado make the following
inferences (side conclusions):
From the minor and subjectal premises, Some S1 are P2
From the major and subjectal premises, All S2 are P1

(mood 3/AAI).
(mood 1/AAA).

Yet other formal syllogisms may be possible, depending on the predicatal premise
involved; such eventual inferences will be pointed out as we proceed.
In some cases, these various deductive inferences lead to no antinomy and are
accepted by the Rabbis, though they may go beyond them and recommend some inductive
process (for instance, an a-contrario reading or a generalization). In some cases, they lead
to no antinomy, but are refused by the Rabbis (for reasons we shall see), who inhibit them
in some way (for instance, by means of an anti-literal reading of the text or a
particularization). In some cases, deductive logic from the given data results in a conflict,
which must be resolved; and here again, the Rabbis may favour one reconciliation over
another.
We have above considered, and will continue to do so, only the copulative forms of kol
davar shehayah bikhlal; that is, forms involving categorical propositions. However, it should be
clear that implicational forms of same are equally conceivable; that is, forms involving conditional
propositions. Both types are used in Rabbinic examples, though perhaps the former more so than the
latter. As shown below, the overall format of implicationals is similar to that of copulatives; all
results are presumably the same, mutatis mutandis. We need not, therefore, treat both types; nor will
we do so, to avoid repetitions. The significant difference between them is that, while copulatives
involve four terms, implicationals involve four theses. Instead of the subjects (S1, S2) and predicates
(P1, P2), we are concerned with antecedents (P1, P2 - not to confuse with the preceding symbols for
Predicates; here P stands for Proposition) and consequents (Q1, Q2), respectively. Thus, for the
record, we have, broadly put:

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

Given: If P1 then Q1 and If P2 then Q2
where P2 implies P1, but P1 does not imply P2
and Q1 and Q2 are in some relation f{Q1, Q2}

163
(major and minor premises),
(antecedental premise),
(consequental premise).

What are resulting relations:

between P1 and Q1, and between P2 and Q2, other than the above given;
and between P1 and Q2, and between P2 and Q1 (conclusions)?

The common phrase kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa... can now be interpreted
more precisely. Kol davar refers to the minor term (S2); shehayah bi-, to the latters
subsumption under the major term (S1, through the subjectal premise S2 is S1); -khlal,
to the major premise (S1 is P1); and veyatsa, to the minor premise (S2 is P2). Note that
in all these rules, the underlying subject is, normally, a person or persons (even if a beast,
plant or mineral is ever mentioned, the ultimate subject, to whom any law might be
addressed, is human). The effective predicate is clearly a law or set of laws, by which we
must in this context understand some prescription, prohibition, permission and/or
exemption. Let us now look at the hermeneutic principles concerned in detail.

Rule No. 8 completes the said common phrase with the words ...min haklal
lelamed, lo lelamed al atsmo yatsa, ela lelamed al haklal kulo yatsa. Translated literally,
the principle states: anything which was in a generality and came out of the generality, is
to be taught: it is not to be taught about itself, it came out; but it is to be taught that about
the whole generality, it came out.
We may suggest the following interpretation: A subject (S2), by virtue of its
subsumption under another (S1), was included in a generality (All S1 are P1); then it (S2)
was treated distinctively (All S2 are P2). In such case, the distinctive predicate (P2) is to be
taught: do not just teach it (P2) with reference to the singled-out species (S2), but also
teach it (P2) with reference to the whole genus (S1) so that All S1 are P2. Thus, atsmo
refers to the minor term (S2); yatsa, to the minor predicate (P2); and haklal kulo, to the
major term (S1).
Although R. Ishmaels principle itself does not specify the following point, judging
by some examples given in the literature, the rule of lelamed concerns cases where the
minor predicate P2 is subordinate to the major predicate P1. Thus, in this context, the
predicatal premise undefined in our earlier general formula is:
All P2 are P1, but not all P1 are P2

(predicatal premise),

and the main conclusion apparently suggested by R. Ishmael is:

All S1 are P2

(main conclusion).

According to deductive logic, the said predicatal premise does not provide us with
any additional inferences, other than the ones already obtained by other means (see above).
Therefore, R. Ishmaels suggested conclusion is at best inductive. Deductive logic allows
that a genus may have a generic predicate and a species of that genus have a more specific
predicate; it does not insist that the genus follows suit and have the more specific predicate,
too. R. Ishmael, on the other hand, apparently considers that, with regard to the Torah, the

164

JUDAIC LOGIC

minor premise, or more precisely, the implication of the minor and subjectal premises,
Some S1 are P2, has to be generalized to All S1 are P2.
The example, reported by Bergman, on which I based the above formalization is: Exod.
22:18 sentences a sorceress to death (generality), while Lev. 20:27 sentences a male or female
medium or necromancers (in whom is a ghost ov or familiar spirit yidoni) to death by stoning
(particularity); whence, granting mediums and necromancers to be included in the category of
sorceresses (the textual basis for this subsumption is not given, note; also, commentators include
sorcerers, arguing that the feminine is used only because most are women), it is inferred by such
lelamed exegesis that sorceresses (of all kinds) are to be stoned. I noticed that the predicate change
consists in adding a further precision (by stoning) to the original predicate (death sentence); and
assumed this to be a sine qua non condition of application of this rule.

Note well that, according to natural logic, R. Ishmaels suggested conclusion is not
impossible (no antinomy ensues from it); it is just a non-sequitur (not formally inevitable).
The minor premises implication is lav davqa, and may with equal possibility turn out to be
general or contingent. Also, no redundancy would be involved in a davqa reading of Some
S1 are P2, contrary to R. Ishmaels generalization, i.e. such that Some S1 are not P2.
The suggested course is therefore an artificial one, recommended by a religious authority
claiming Divine sanction. It is not essentially an inference, but a proposal that the minor
premise not be read as exclusive.
Why the text did not simply say All S1 are P2 (instead of All S2 are P2) in the
first place, if that is what it intended, is not explained; perhaps it would have been
contextually inappropriate, suggesting false inferences from the surrounding context. Also,
why the proposed inference is made, rather than reading the particularity as an exceptional
provision, so that species of S1 other than S2 are not P2, though they are P1, is not
explained. I would predict that the alternative reading of the particular, as a contingent,
sometimes does occur in Rabbinic practice; but I have not searched for examples229. In any
case, deductively, either outcome is formally acceptable; the proposed mood can only
therefore be considered as an inductive preference, claimed as peculiar to Biblical exegesis.

Bergman informs us that above is one version of the rule of lelamed, where the
particular law teaches about itself as well as the general law. In another version,
according to him, it teaches (not about itself but) only about the general law. From the
example he gives, however, I would strongly disagree with his rendering of the latter
version, while quite willing to grant that it exists in Rabbinic literature. But before
discussing our differences, let me present this additional version in formal terms.
Let us first look at Bergmans example. Lev. 22:3 sentences he who approaches holy
offerings while impure to the cut-off (excision, karet) penalty (generality); Lev. 7:20 sentences he
who eats peace-offerings while impure to the same penalty (particularity); peace-offerings are listed
as among other holy offerings in Lev. 7:37 (to be precise, this verse does not mention the general
category of holy offerings, but only lists various kinds of offerings: burnt, meal, sin, guilt,
consecration and peace). It is thence inferred that the consumption (or approach?) of offerings of
lesser holiness than peace-offerings, such as those for Temple maintenance (Bergman does not
specify where in the text this distinction in degree of holiness is established), are not subject to cutoff. 230
229

Frankly, in my view, the davqa reading would seem the more likely of the two (though not
inevitable), because that would immediately explain why Scripture did not simply say 'All S1 are
P2'.
230
Note in passing that Scherman (p. 51) uses the same area of the text to illustrate the first
variant of lelamed. From Lev. 7:19, which allows the ritually pure to eat sacrificial meat (and,

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

165

Although neither R. Ishmael nor his successors specify the following point, judging
by some examples given in the literature, the variant rule of lelamed concerns cases where
the major predicate P1 is subordinate or identical to the minor predicate P2. Thus, in this
context, the predicatal premise undefined in our earlier general formula is:
All P1 are P2

(predicatal premise),

and the main conclusion apparently suggested by Rabbis is:

Some S1 are not P2

(main conclusion).

Now, let us consider the syllogistic inferences we can make given this predicatal
premise; there is only one, shown below. Notice that the result below is the same as the
main conclusion of the original version of lelamed, except that here it is obtained by
deduction, without need of an inductive extension.
From the major and predicatal premises, All S1 are P2

(mood 1/AAA).

Note that All P1 are P2 does not tells us whether all P2 are P1 or not all P2 are
P1; either possibility is acceptable in the present variant, presumably. In the case where P1
and P2 imply each other (i.e. are identical or logically equivalent), nothing more can be
deduced from the given premises.
There is a formal exception to the application of the second variant of lelamed, namely in
situations where the rules of the klalim uphratim type are applicable. For the compound propositions
G and S are P and S and G are P, where S is subordinate to G, are each formally equivalent to a
conjunction of the two simple propositions G are P and S are P. And according to R. Ishmael, the
conclusions to be drawn in these situations are, respectively, Only S are P (davqa, by rule No. 4)
and All G are P (general, by rule No. 5). It follows that, when we come across subalternative
subjects with the same predicate, we must first decide which rule is applicable. According to Rashi
(Shevuot, 7a), the klalim uphratim rules would be used when the subalternative subjects are close to
each other in the text (in the same verse), while the said variant of lelamed would come into play
when the propositions are relatively far apart. The conclusion obtained is different from that of
lelamed variant two, note well, in the case of SG are P; but in any case, the process as such is
different even in the case of GS are P. Similar comments apply to other forms of klalim uphratim.

We thus see that, in this second variant of lelamed, the conclusion postulated by
the Rabbis, Some S1 are not P2, is precisely the contradictory of the conclusion required
by deductive logic (taking the premises at their face-value)! I am therefore very tempted to
entirely reject this form of reasoning as antinomial. In any case, I would bet that this
therefore, supposedly, granting an exclusive reading of the text, forbids the impure from doing so),
and v. 20, which decrees a penalty of karet for an impure person who eats peace-offerings, he
infers the same penalty for all holy offerings. It is interesting that this sweeping conclusion is in
disagreement with Bergman's more nuanced result obtained by means of the second variant of
lelamed! I do not know which of them is considered Halakhically correct. However, my reading of v.
19 is that it refers to peace-offerings, since not only the previous verse but the two after concern
these offerings, in which case Scherman's argument is not really a first-variant lelamed, but simply
a generalization from peace offerings to all offerings (which does not mean Bergman is right, of
course).

166

JUDAIC LOGIC

procedure is not invariably followed in the situation concerned, since it is very likely to
lead to eventual inconsistencies; but I have not sought for demonstrative examples.
However, we must try and understand what prompted the Rabbis to propose such twisted
logic, and how it can be formally expressed.
Apparently, what prompted the Rabbis to opt for such a convolution, is the fact that
the major predicate (P1) is less extended than the minor predicate (P2), or of equal
extension, whereas the major subject (S1) is more extended than the minor subject (S2).
Why would Scripture do so, rather than say All S1 are P2 in the first place, knowing that
we could automatically draw such an inference? Therefore, the Rabbis supposedly
reasoned, Scripture does not want us to draw such an inference.
With regard to logical means for such a position: granting the predicatal premise,
which distinguishes this midah from the others and defines it, the only way we can prevent
the conclusion All S1 are P2 from being drawn, is to deny the major premise, All S1 are
P1. Note well that if we do so and say:
Some, but not all, S1 are P1

(particularization of major premise),

then the side conclusion that All S2 are P1 no longer follows, and the relation between S2
and P1 remains problematic.
Objections which can be raised to this Rabbinical position are the following. If the Rabbis
are surprised in the present case that the text did not immediately say All S1 are P2, why were they
not equally surprised in the previous case that the text did not directly say it, if that was its intention?
Furthermore, in the case where P1 is subordinate to P2, there could be a contextual reason
for giving the major premise a more specific predicate, to avoid some unwanted inference (such as a
first variant lelamed from another minor premise) which could otherwise be drawn from a generic
predicate. In the case where P1 and P2 are one and the same, the Rabbinical surprise can only be due
to the different extensions of the subjects, S1 and S2; here again, a contextual explanation could be
adduced: it is conceivable that undesirable inferences might have been drawn from a misplaced
generic subject or specific subject.
God, the writer of the Torah, may have thought: I can allow Myself such wording, since
the Rabbis will recover My final intention eventually anyway, by syllogism through the predicatal
premise. The mere facts that the text is considered as written by a conscious Being and that
syllogism is easy, does not prove that God intended what the Rabbis say He intended. An alternative
course is sustainable, so their discomfort with the apparent redundancy was not justified. So much
for evaluation; let us go back to description.

In the new variant of lelamed, the putative conclusion denies the major premise. It
is not a deduction (since in deduction, a conclusion can never contradict a premise), nor a
particularization in reaction to textual inconsistency (since there was no contradiction
between the premises, no conflict calling for reconciliation). Strictly-speaking, therefore, it
cannot be called an inference, but at best a reading motivated by a vague discomfort with
the logistics of the text. The Rabbis arbitrarily (without formal motive) reject literal
reading of the major premise, All S1 are P1, and tell us that it is not davqa general, but
really contingent. Their alleged conclusion, that Some S1 are not P2, is the cause, rather
than the effect, of such reading. The anti-literal reading becomes necessary to prevent
absurd consequences, only once the desired conclusion has been artificially chosen;
furthermore, that conclusion does not necessarily follow such reading, it is only made
possible by it.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

167

Thus, the second variant of lelamed ends, rather than starts, with particularization
of the major premise; no process is involved in getting to its main conclusion. Note that, in
this context, the syllogistic inference from the original major premise (All S1 are P1) and
the supposed predicatal premise (All P1 are P2), namely All S1 are P2, is Rabbinically
interdicted.
It follows incidentally, from the main conclusion, as the Rabbis claim, that there
is at least one species of S1 unlike S2, call it S3, which is not P2; i.e. that the minor
predicate is applicable only to the minor subject (and eventually others like it); the trouble
with this eduction, however, is that it adds no concrete knowledge, since it cannot tell us in
what respect other species are like or unlike the given species231. In effect, then, though
the minor premise as such (All S2 are P2) remains unaffected, it becomes exclusive:
Only S2 are P2

(additional conclusion).

Note well that this exclusive proposition is not formally required as such, but is
approximately true granting some leeway for the subject to expand somewhat (i.e. S2
here may include other species of S1 like S2, but in any case excludes some species of S1
unlike S2). The syllogistic inference that Some S1 are P2, from the minor premise and
the subjectal premise (All S2 are S1), remains valid; and is of course to be conjoined to the
Rabbis conclusion Some S1 are not P2, to form a contingent proposition.
To repeat, the proposal of the Rabbis is logically untenable, unless we doctor the
premises in a convenient manner. To prevent contradiction, the major premise All S1 are
P1 has to be denied, i.e. particularized to Some, but not all, S1 are P1. However, this
measure does not result in the desired main conclusion being inferred deductively; it
remains a foregone conclusion (a thesis without justification in the premises, old or new).
All that the adjustment of the major premise does, is render the main conclusion formally
conceivable; its preference by the Rabbis remains an inductive act. This act would be
acceptable to science, if put forward as a tentative hypothesis to be tested by other data;
however, pronounced as a fixed fiat, not open to review, it becomes, from the scientific
point of view, an arbitrary act. The Rabbis, of course, claim Divine sanction for it; but we
must point out that such a claim is not verifiable by scientific means. We shall leave the
matter at that and move on.
We can now return to criticism of Bergmans formulation. The distinction between the two
variants of lelamed which he proposes is incorrect. In the first variant, we could, indeed, say that the
particular law teaches about itself as well as the general law, insofar as the minor predicate is
Rabbinically applied to the major subject. However, it cannot be said, in the second variant, that the
particular law teaches (not about itself but) only about the general law. The particular law is in
fact unaffected by the process, and the general law does not come to resemble it. The best we can
say is that the particular law is viewed by the Rabbis as an exception to the general law; it makes the
latter cease to be general. The minor predicate is reserved for the minor subject (and others
eventually like it), and other members of the major subject (unlike the minor subject) are
deprived of the minor predicate.

Let us see, now, how we would have to interpret R. Ishmaels lelamed formula, so
that it covers the second variant. To adapt the sentence kol davar shehayah bikhlal
veyatsa min haklal lelamed lo lelamed al atsmo yatsa ela lelamed al haklal kulo yatsa, we
231

By definition, every species is in some respects different from, as well as in some respects
the same as, other species of the common genus. In practice, the Rabbis rather arbitrarily propose
divisions, without adductive control.

168

JUDAIC LOGIC

must read into it something to the effect that A subject (S2), by virtue of its subsumption
under another (S1), was included in a generality (All S1 are P1); then it (S2) was treated
distinctively (All S2 are P2). In such case, the distinctive treatment (All S2 are P2) was
intended to teach us something. It was not done just to teach us something about itself (S2)
that the species was differentiated (in All S2 are P2), but also to teach us something else
about the whole genus (S1) from which it was differentiated namely, that Not all S1 are
P2.
In this modified version, we read the implicit word else, meaning other than the
distinctive treatment, into the formula, so that the conclusion be different for the genus
than it was the species. Here, yatsa refers to the whole minor premise, rather than to the
minor predicate, note.
Thus, we might distinguish the two variants of lelamed, by labeling the first
lelamed oto hadavar leshar haklal (teach the same thing, P2, with regard to rest of the
genus, S1), and the second lelamed hefekh hadavar leshar haklal (teach the opposite
thing, notP2, with regard to the rest of the genus, S1). Compare this to Bergmans
differentiation, as well as the general and only the general, and you can see that he was
inaccurate.
Let us now review the technical similarities and differences between these two
versions of lelamed, other than their common grounds with the other rules of the type kol
davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa. (a) In both, the predicatal premise, which serves as the
distinctive condition to application of the rule, asserts implication between the predicates;
however, in the first version, which we have called lelamed oto hadavar, the minor
predicate is subordinate to the major predicate; whereas in the second version, called
lelamed hefekh hadavar, the major predicate implies the minor predicate. (b) The main
conclusion of the first is general positive (All S1 are P2), while that of the second is
particular negative (Some S1 are not P2); they agree, however, that Some S1 are P2.
Finally, (c) they involve distinct thought-processes: lelamed oto hadavar proceeds
by inductive generalization of a particular implication of the minor premise (viz. Some S1
are P2), whereas lelamed hefekh hadavar proceeds by arbitrarily postulating a conclusion
contradictory to an implication of the major premise (viz. All S1 are P2) and consequent
reconciliatory particularization of the major premise itself. Neither process is called-for or
necessary according to natural logic, neither constitutes deduction from the predicatal
premise which prompts it; but the artifice involved in the former is relatively
straightforward, while that involved in the latter is more twisted.
In view of the similar predicatal premises, the traditional classification of lelamed hefekh
hadavar with lelamed oto hadavar seems sound. But at the same time, in view of the radical
differences in process and conclusion, we may well doubt that the second variant was intended in
the original definition of R. Ishmael. I suspect its formulation was a later development, even if it was
used unconsciously earlier. It could equally well have been instituted as a distinct rule of the kol
davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa type. It resembles the rule of the liton toan acher, shelo kheinyano
type (see below) in that it involves a particularization of the major premise, though for quite
different reasons.

The next two rules (Nos. 9 and 10) continue the common phrase kol davar
shehayah bikhlal veyatsa... with the words ...liton toan acher. We shall now analyze these.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

169

Let us first deal with Rule No. 10, which is easier. It completes the preceding
clauses with the phrase ...shelo kheinyano, yatsa lehaqel ulehachamir, and may be
translated literally as anything which was in a generality and came out to posit another
thesis, which is incompatible, came out to lighten and to harden. The expression shelo
kheinyano tells us that the major and minor predicates are, by their very nature (or by
virtue of some other part of the text, perhaps), incapable of conjunction in one and the
same subject. They are not merely different, but mutually exclusive; there is a radical
cleavage between them.
Thus, although neither R. Ishmael nor his successors specify the following point,
judging by some examples given in the literature, the rule liton toan acher, shelo kheinyano
concerns cases where the major predicate P1 and the minor predicate P2 are contrary or
contradictory. Thus, in this context, the predicatal premise undefined in our earlier general
formula is, minimally:
No P1 is P2 (and No P2 is P1)

(predicatal premise).

Note that this gives a minimal definition of the incompatibility between P1 and P2 referred
to. The bracketed clause is redundant, being implied anyway. In the case of contradictories, we must
additionally say: No nonP1 is nonP2 (which implies No nonP2 is nonP1). While in the case of
contraries, we must add: Some nonP1 are nonP2 (which implies Some nonP2 are nonP1).
A comment should be made here regarding compound predicates. If one predicate X
consists of two concepts a + b, while the other predicate Y consists of only one of these concepts
(say, a), without mentioning the other (b), then three readings are possible232.
(i)
X = a + b and Y = a + b or a + notb. Here, knowing that either event may actually
occur; the result is that X is included in Y, or in other words, Y is a genus of X (as well as of
some other species, Z = a + notb). Therefore, we would apply the rule lelamed; opting for the
variant hefekh hadavar if P1=X and P2=Y, or the variant oto hadavar if P1=Y and P2=X.
(ii)
X = a + b and Y = a + b. Here, we have generalized factor b from the a in the case of
X, to a in all cases, including that of Y; the result is that X and Y are identical. Therefore,
whether P1=X and P2=Y, or P1=Y and P2=X, we would apply the rule lelamed hefekh hadavar.
(iii)
X = a + b and Y = a + notb. Here, we have generalized from the non-mention of b with
regard to Y, to the actual absence of b in Y; the result is that X and Y are incompatible233.
Therefore, whether P1=X and P2=Y, or P1=Y and P2=X, we would apply the rule shelo
kheinyano.
Often, as Bergman acknowledges, Scripture displays a discrepancy, not by commission
(assigning incompatible predicates to subalternative subjects), but by omission (as just described).
As the above analysis shows, in the latter case, before we can apply one of the hermeneutic rules, a
decision process must be followed234. Thereafter, if the compounds involved are found incompatible,

232

If more than two concepts are involved, we can easily reduce them to two. Thus, for
instance, if X = 'a + b + c' and Y = 'a + b', then 'a + b' are effectively one concept and 'c' the other,
for our purposes. However, note well, if there is, as well as a missing element in one of the
compounds, any explicit incompatibility within them (for instance, X = 'a + b + c' and Y = 'a + notc'),
then they (i.e. X and Y) are automatically contrary.
233
Note that, granting 'a' to be true, 'a+b' and 'a+notb' are no longer merely (indefinitely)
incompatible, but become contradictory (i.e. not only they cannot be both true at once, but they
cannot be both false at once).
234
The decision depends, in part, on the known relationships between the elements 'a' and 'b'.
They must be compatible, since 'a+b' occurs, in our situation. If 'a' implies 'b', then 'just a' implies
'a+b'. In all other cases, the combination 'a+notb' remains logically possible, though in some cases
it may be materially absent or even impossible, for natural or Scriptural reasons.

170

JUDAIC LOGIC
we apply shelo kheinyano; otherwise, one of the variants of lelamed. It is noteworthy that the rule
shehu kheinyano, as defined further on, never comes into play in this context!235

Now, let us consider the syllogistic inferences we can make given the said
predicatal premise, No P1 is P2:
From the minor and predicatal premises, No S2 is P1
From the major and predicatal premises, No S1 is P2

(mood 2/EAE),
(mood 1/EAE).

No additional inference is possible with the additional clause (No nonP1 is nonP2)
of contradictory predicates, nor with that (Some nonP1 are nonP2) of contrary predicates,
note. Now, comparing these new results to the implications of the major and minor
premises in conjunction with the subjectal premise, namely All S2 are P1 and Some S1
are P2, we see that they are respectively contrary and contradictory propositions. Thus, if,
in the text, we come across subjects in a genus-species relation which have incompatible
predicates, we are facing a situation of formal inconsistency. This is not an antinomy due to
a Rabbinic interpretation, but one inherent in the text, note well. A formal resolution of the
conflict is absolutely required.
It is a principle of inductive logic that harmonization is to be sought by effecting
the minimum retreat from generalities, necessary to restore consistency; this is the most
likely outcome236. If it can be shown that the subjects are not subalternative and/or that the
predicates are not incompatible, we are of course no longer in the same situation and some
other process may be appropriate. But, granting that the subjectal and predicatal premises
are correct, the only way to achieve the required result is to particularize the major
premise. With regard to the minor premise, if it is particularized alone, a conflict remains;
it may of course also be particularized, but that does not affect the result. That is, logic
indisputably demands that:
Some, but not all, S1 are P1

(resolution of conflict, leading conclusion).

The proof of what we have just said will now be presented:

If we particularize only the minor premise, so that Some, but not all, S2 are P2, and we keep
the major premise, then the following sorites remains possible: All S2 are S1 (subjectal) and
All S1 are P1 (major) and No P1 is P2 (predicatal), therefore No S2 is P2; but the latter
conclusion disagrees with Some S2 are P2 (from minor); therefore, we still have an
inconsistency.
On the other hand, if we particularize only the major premise, so that Some, but not all, S1 are
P1, and we keep the minor premise, then the following sorites remains possible: Some S1 are
235

However, the situation of shehu kheinyano can indeed be predicted in a wider perspective,
which consists in defining the two predicates, initially, as P1='a' and P2='b', then considering the
logical possibilities of conjunction between the various combinations of a, b, and their negations.
For P1 may equal 'a+b' or 'a+notb' or 'a+b or a+notb', while P2 may equal 'a+b' or 'nota+b' or 'a+b
or nota+b'. These 3+3 combinations (of which 2 are disjunctive) imply nine conjunctions. Of these
conjunctions, five are between incompatibles (shelo kheinyano), and four are between compatibles;
of the latter, one yields 'P2 implies P1' (lelamed oto hadavar), one yields 'P2 is implied by P1' and
one yields 'P2, P1 imply each other' (lelamed hefekh hadavar), and, finally, one (namely, the
conjunction of the two disjunctions) admits of 'P2 being unconnected or subcontrary to P1'. This
last case allows for shehu kheinyano.
236
We cannot go into the complex proof of this principle here. It has to do with factorial
analysis (see my work Future Logic on this topic).

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

171

S2 (converse of subjectal) and All S2 are P2 (minor) and No P2 is P1 (converse of

predicatal), therefore Some S1 are not P1; and the latter conclusion agrees with Some, but not
all, S1 are P1 (altered major); therefore, this measure resolves our contradiction.
If we particularize both premises, no such sorites can be constructed. The results are equally
acceptable; but this measure involves a more radical reaction than necessary, it goes beyond
logical necessity. Thus, the minor premise might or might not be denied; what counts is denial of
the major premise. The difference in behavior is due to the minor term being narrower than the
major term.

That is, we must say that the text, which at first sight led us to believe All S1 are
P1, was not intended to be taken literally, but only to suggest that a great many, perhaps
most, but not all of S1 are P1. The syllogistic consequences of this new result on the
relations between S1 and P2 and between S2 and P1 are as follows.
From the minor and subjectal premises, Some S1 are P2
From the major and predicatal premises, Some S1 are not P2
From the major and subjectal premises, no conclusion
From the minor and predicatal premises, Some S2 are not P1

(3/IAI).
(1/EIO).
(1/IA?).
(2/EIO).

The latter consequence is true whether the minor premise is particularized or not. If
the minor premise is not particularized, we can moreover infer No S2 is P1; if, however,
it is particularized (for independent reasons, for we have here no reason to do so), then
whether No S2 is P1 or Some S2 are P1 remains an open question, formally. These
consequences, together with the altered major premise (Only some S1 are P1), constitute
our conclusions, according to formal logic. Now, let us turn to the Rabbis, and see what
they say.
An example of liton toan acher shelo kheinyano given by Scherman: Exod. 21:2-6 presents
a set of laws relating to the release of a Hebrew slave (eved ivri, this is taken to refer to a thief sold
by the courts to repay his theft, as per Exod. 22:2; for the self-sold poor, see Lev. 25:39-43); then
Exod. 21:7-11 presents a very different set of laws for the release of a daughter sold as maid-servant
(amah); conclusion, the initial set was for male Hebrew slaves only, and the laws of each group
cannot be applied to the other group.237

Thus far, the formal conclusions apparently suggested by R. Ishmael are identical
to those of natural logic, in the present rule. However, the above example suggests that the
Rabbis take a more definite position and additionally conclude:
No S2 is P1

(additional conclusion).

Whether the Rabbis invariably go that far, or only occasionally, I cannot say
without a full list of examples; but offhand, it seems pretty typical. This conclusion can be
237

This is not a very good example, in my view, since the text describes the slave as possibly
having a wife (implying him a male), and concerning the maid-servant says "she shall not go out as
the men-servants do" (referring apparently to the preceding verses concerning the Hebrew slave),
so that the subjects obviously do not overlap and the proposed inference is unnecessary. I wonder,
too, if female thieves are sold by the courts; in any event, the daughter is not sold by the courts.
However, ignoring all that, we may use the differing laws of release as a partial illustration. Better
examples are given further on.

172

JUDAIC LOGIC

due to either of two policies. Either the Rabbis consider that the minor premise ought to be
kept general, i.e. as All S2 are P2; in which case, the said additional conclusion follows
from the minor and predicatal premises deductively. Or the Rabbis consider that the minor
premise ought to be particularized; in which case, their arrival at the additional conclusion
is due to a generalization from the implication Some S2 are not P1 of the minor and
predicatal premises. The first alternative is preferable to formal logic, in that no
unnecessary doctoring of given data is involved. The second alternative, if used by the
Rabbis, would constitute an inductive act (regarding which we can reiterate the remarks
previously made in similar circumstances; namely, that such an act is arbitrary, if presented
as a fixed rule; though scientifically acceptable, if presented as a tentative hypothesis).

Rule No. 9 completes the common phrase kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa...
with the words ...liton toan acher, shehu kheinyano, yatsa lehaqel velo lehachamir, and
may be translated literally as anything which was in a generality and came out to posit
another thesis, which is compatible, came out to lighten and not to harden. The expression
shehu kheinyano is at first unclear; but we can arrive at its intended meaning by a process
of elimination. Shelo kheinyano (see rule No. 10, above) clearly refers to an incompatible
predicate; so, shehu kheinyano must refer to some kind of compatible predicate; however,
it cannot refer to a minor predicate which subalternates or mutually implies or is
subalternated by the major predicate, as such relations have already been treated under the
headings of lelamed; therefore, shehu kheinyano must specifically refer to a subcontrary
or an unconnected predicate. That is, here, though the two predicates are by their natures
different, in the sense of distinguishable, they are not mutually exclusive, but conjoinable.
Traditionalists may not agree with this definition of shehu kheinyano. They might
distinguish it from shelo kheinyano, by saying that both concern somewhat divergent predicates, the
formers are of similar subject-matter, while the latter of different subject-matter, or something to
that effect. But such a distinction is of little practical value, because it is difficult to determine by its
means what is different, but not very and what is very different; the distinction in practice
becomes pure guesswork, or (they might say) a matter of oral tradition.
Though I try my best, I see no way to enshrine such a distinction in formal terms. It cannot,
for instance, be ascribed to the issue of compound predicates (see above). A genetic explanation
may be the relation between two degrees of a concept X, say X1 and X2, and an incompatible of it,
say Y (implying nonX): we could say that the greater X (X2) is further than the lesser X (X1) to
nonX (considered as X=0); but both X1 and X2 remain in conflict with Y. The notion of less or
more incompatible is, strictly speaking, a mixed bag. For formal logic, all incompatibilities are
equivalent, without degrees; things either cannot coexist, or they can coexist (under certain
conditions).
The examples which commentators usually give for the two processes are clearly identical
from a formal point of view: substitute symbols for the terms, and you will see that the predicates
are formally incompatible in both sets of examples. It follows that there is no way to justify different
procedures for the two situations. Furthermore, if both rules of liton toan acher indeed referred to
incompatible predicates, then R. Ishmaels hermeneutics would be short of a comment on
compatibles (in the sense, unconnecteds or subcontraries).

Thus, although neither R. Ishmael nor his successors specify the following point,
we can say that the rule liton toan acher, shehu kheinyano concerns cases where the major
predicate P1 and the minor predicate P2 are unconnected or subcontrary. This
hypothesis is based on the said process of elimination, and hopefully will eventually be
confirmed by some examples given in the literature. In this context, then, the predicatal
premise undefined in our earlier general formula is, minimally:

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

Some P1 are P2 and some P1 are not P2, and

(some P2 are P1 and) some P2 are not P1

173

(predicatal premise).

Note that this gives a minimal definition of the sort of compatibility between P1 and P2
referred to. The clause Some P1 are P2 serves to eliminate incompatibilities, which are dealt with
under the heading of shelo kheinyano; the bracketed clause Some P2 are P1 is implicit in it, and so
could be left out. The clauses Some P1 are not P2 and Some P2 are not P1 serve to eliminate
implicational relationships, which are dealt with under the heading of lelamed. In the case of
subcontraries, the clause All nonP1 are P2 (which implies All nonP2 are P1) would have to be
added; in that case, the clauses Some P1 are not P2 and Some P2 are not P1, being both implied
by the larger clause, could be left out. In the case of unconnecteds, the clause Some nonP1 are not
P2 (which implies Some nonP2 are not P1) would be added, instead.

Now, let us consider the syllogistic inferences we can make given the said
(compound) predicatal premise. In conjunction with the major premise, all we can formally
infer is that Some P2 are not S1 (mood 2/OAO). However, this information tells us
nothing of the relation of S1 to P2 (in that order), other than what we already know from
the minor and subjectal premises, viz. that Some S1 are P2 (which is indefinite, note).
Similarly, we can infer, from the predicatal and minor premises, that Some P1 are not S2;
but this information tells us nothing of the relation of S2 to P1 (in that order). 238
Before we can present and evaluate, by formal means, the conclusion(s) proposed
by the Rabbis in such case, we have to find a statement or example which somewhat
clarifies the matter, as we did in other cases. The problem, here, is that the statements and
examples I have so far come across concerning the present rule are ambivalent239. So we
have to proceed in a different manner, and look for an example which, had the Rabbis been
more aware of the formal issues involved, they might well have classified under this
heading. This proposed approach is admittedly highly hypothetical. For the present
research project is not essentially prescriptive, but descriptive; its purpose is primarily, not
to tell the Rabbis how they should interpret texts, but to discover how they do interpret
texts. We wish to evaluate their methods, not invent methods for them. A value-judgment
is ultimately intended, but only after we have something of theirs to evaluate.
Nevertheless, remember, we arrived at our hypothesis concerning the form of shehu
kheinyano, not out of the blue, but by a gradual discovery of the forms of the other
subdivisions of kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa. Our hypothesis was therefore
grounded in Rabbinic practice to that extent, being the only leftover form available. It is, of
course, conceivable that R. Ishmael and his successors never had to deal with the situation
of compatible (but not subalternative or implicant) predicates in practice, and therefore had
no need to develop a hermeneutic response and corresponding rule. This empirical issue is
hard for me, personally, to resolve at this time, since I do not have a full inventory of the
instances of Rabbinic exegesis at hand. However, I have found a couple of examples in the
literature, in which the predicates are objectively in the required relation, even though they
are classified differently by tradition (see Appendix 6).
Objectively, these examples should be classed as shehu kheinyano; but
traditionally, one of them is classed as shelo kheinyano (rule No. 9, above), and the other
238

For the record, note also that, in the case where P1 and P2 are subcontrary, nothing more
can be deduced from the given premises.
239
An acquaintance of mine, Mr. S. Szmerla, pointed out to me, when I asked him for
examples, that it is quite possible that some of the hermeneutic rules have only one or two actual
instances. It is therefore not at all sure that we will find a sample, which is recognized by both the
Rabbis and logicians like me as shehu kheinyano. A systematic listing and analysis of all exegetic
acts in the Talmud is highly desirable, evidently.

174

JUDAIC LOGIC

as lidon badavar hechadash (rule No. 11, below; but note, regarding the latter example,
that it may also be classed as shelo kheinyano, according to how the major premise is
read). Thus, the conclusions they yield vary in form. But we cannot, in any case, presume
to predict, on the basis of such reclassifications, what the formal conclusions preferred by
the Rabbis might be for shehu kheinyano situations; for if they had been aware of the
compatibility of the predicates in the suggested examples, they may have proposed other
conclusions than those they proposed while unaware. To know for sure, we need an
example which is both objectively shehu kheinyano and regarded as such by tradition,
which to date I have not found.
The issue must therefore be left open, pending the gathering of more data. That is
not a big problem, because, whatever the response of the Rabbis happens to be, we have by
now made clear the method by which such response is to be treated: it is to be formalized
(substituting symbols for content) and compared to the results syllogistic logic.
We shall now venture some remarks regarding the final clauses of R. Ishmaels
liton toan acher rules, concerning leniencies and severities. Rule No. 9, shehu kheinyano,
ends with the phrase ...yatsa lehaqel velo lehachamir (meaning: was singled out to
alleviate and not to aggravate); and rule No. 10, shelo kheinyano, ends with the phrase
...yatsa lehaqel ulehachamir (meaning: was singled out to alleviate and to aggravate).
Traditionally, these phrases are taken to characterize the result of exegesis, by comparing
the general and particular law.
Examples. (a) Alleviation and not aggravation: Scripture prescribes the death sentence for
killing someone, except in a case of manslaughter, for which the sentence is exile instead of death;
thus, for manslaughter, the sentence is lighter and not heavier. (b) Alleviation and aggravation:
Scripture prescribes payment of a ransom for his life to the master of an ox which kills someone,
except in a case where the victim is a slave; in the latter case, the oxs master pays the slaves master
a fixed sum (30 silver shekels), whatever the market value of the slave; since the market value of the
slave may be more or less than the fixed sum, the latter sentence involves both leniency and
severity.240

These characterizations have no formal moment, according to our analysis. We

cannot predict, on formal grounds, how the general and particular laws, so-called, will
compare with respect to leniency or severity. It is clear that such characterizations are
essentially ex post facto summaries based on material data241. If it so happens that wherever

240

Example (a) is from Scherman. Example (b) is Abitbol's. However, it should be clear that, in
the latter example, the focus of comparison is incorrect: we should not be comparing the fixed sum
to the market value of the slave (as Abitbol does, following tradition, presumably), but to the
ransom for the ox master's life. If the ransom for a free man's life is uniformly greater than the fixed
sum for a slave, then the law for the slave case 'alleviates but does not aggravate'. If the ransom
may be greater or smaller than the fixed sum, then we might say the fixed sum 'alleviates and
aggravates', in this sense (instead of Abitbol's). Another criticism: in any event, none of these
interpretations allows the phrase 'alleviate and aggravates' to be used; the accurate rendering
would have to be 'alleviates or aggravates', judging by this traditional example. However, this may
be judged an issue of translation, since 've-' is in other contexts read as 'or' as often as 'and'. All
that goes to show the approximativeness and unreliability of Rabbinic thinking.
241
Another example worth noting. Concerning the Hebrew slave and maid-servant case,
considered earlier: Scherman explains that the maid-servant benefits from certain leniencies and
stringencies denied to males, such as that she may go free even before six years of service and
her master can betroth her against her will. But, I say, these differentia are given by the text, they
are not outcomes of exegesis; it would change nothing to the reasoning process if there were only

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

175

shehu kheinyano or shelo kheinyano exegesis has been used, the results are found to have
this or that character, the summaries are true; otherwise, not. It is conceivable that
Scripture and Rabbinic exegesis happen to conform to those patterns, but there is no logical
necessity that they do. For as far as logic is concerned, anything goes in this respect. This
means that the phrases in question do not play a role in getting us to the conclusions; they
are technically useless in determining the Halakhah.
With regard to the material issue, I have no direct interest. But it is worth pointing
out that R. Ishmaels said clauses do not seem to be based on complete enumeration, as
they ought to be, but on generalization from a few instances. This is suggested by
Bergmans comment concerning shehu kheinyano that (Although the formulation of this
rule states to be more lenient rather than more severe, the converse also holds true.) If the
item is specified for purposes of stringency, it is not given the leniencies of the general
law. It is also evident, in several Rabbinic examples, that the characterizations are often
forced, in an effort to fit R. Ishmaels statements. Clearly, R. Ishmael based these phrases
on overly hasty generalization, from observation of a limited sample of cases. Therefore,
they are not only formally unjustifiable, but empirically inaccurate. Consequently, R.
Ishmaels formulations are overly restrictive, in practice.
Nevertheless, let us look further and see whether we can anyway draw some useful
information from R. Ishmaels last clauses, of a formal or methodological sort.
A possible formal interpretation is the following.
If we consider the overall outcome of shelo kheinyano exegesis, what essentially happens is
that the major and minor premises are respectively narrowed down and made exclusive, so that the
major and minor subjects end up with separate predicates. We could say, loosely speaking, that this
result both alleviates and aggravates, in that, whatever they are, the leniencies and stringencies of
the major premise are not applied to the minor term and the leniencies and stringencies of the minor
premise are not applied to the major term. Thus, the final clause of R. Ishmael captures the spirit of
this rule, though not its letter.
If, now, we turn to the shehu kheinyano rule, and R. Ishmaels final clause alleviates but
does not aggravate, and we assume that, here too, he was referring to the spirit, rather than the
letter, of this type of exegesis, we might suppose that the conclusions he would recommend, in
situations where subalternative subjects have compatible predicates, are such that the minor premise
ends up lighter than the major premise. A relatively formal interpretation of this (with reference to
a number of predicates), would be that the minor subject ends up with only its own predicate
exclusive of the other predicate, while the major subject exclusive of the minor subject ends up with
both predicates242.

comparative leniencies or only comparative stringencies, so long as at least one pair of predicates
was incompatible.
242
A more material interpretation (ignoring Bergman's above-mentioned comment), would be
the following. If P2 is more lenient than P1, then people in group S2 should not receive the greater
burden of P1, but remain P2 only; while the rest of those in group S1 may remain P1 only, or be
both P1 and P2; this is the most fitting case, of course - probably just what R. Ishmael had in mind.
However, if P2 is more stringent than P1, then either people in group S2 should have their burden
decreased, by being both P2 and P1, while the rest of those in group S1 remain P1 only; or
alternatively, people in group S2 remain P2 only, while the rest of those in group S1 should have
their burden increased, by being both P1 and P2; but in either of these cases, note, the burden of
S2 people is still greater than that of the rest of S1 people, at the end. (Taking Bergman's comment
into account, the predicates in the latter event would be kept separate, as in the former case.) It is
evident, in view of the multiplicity of possible hypotheses, that R. Ishmael's phrase 'alleviates but
does not aggravate' is very ambiguous, and therefore no sure guide.

176

JUDAIC LOGIC
I offer this remark very speculatively, without even looking for examples; I very much
doubt that that was R. Ishmaels formal intention. Note that, in any case, some residue from the
original text must remain: at least some S1 have to be P1 and at least some S2 have to be P2243.

Our best bet is a methodological interpretation, which goes as follows. This

explanation refers to advice broader in scope than the concerns of deductive or formalinductive logic.
With reference to shelo kheinyano, we could impute R. Ishmael as saying that,
since the major premise has been proven, by ensuing inconsistencies, not to be universal,
we must henceforth proceed very carefully and, unless or until otherwise demonstrated,
look askance at any other statement we encounter in the text concerning the major term,
before extending it to the minor term (through some other exegetic rule). This is reasonable
and wise advice. As examples show, such a recommendation does not exclude in advance
the possibility that the major and minor terms have some legal predicate(s) in common
(they are bound to at least have some non-legal predicates in common, else they would not
be subalternative); it only serves to instill caution in the exegetic process.
Our usual epistemological approach is to accept appearances or statements at their
face-value, barring reason to deny them; this might be called the easygoing approach. In
the shelo kheinyano situation, however, in view of our having encountered one
inconsistency, we have grounds to expect others; so we would be wise to withhold
immediate credulity from subsequent appearances or statements, barring reason to affirm
them; this might be called the cautious approach. These approaches may be analogized to
the ways people can be judged: as innocent until proven guilty or guilty until proven
innocent. The former gradually excludes certain items (which prove untenable), the latter
gradually includes certain items (which prove tenable). In practice, we operate somewhere
in the range between those two extremes.
With reference to shehu kheinyano, accordingly, since no inconsistency is implied,
the appropriate approach would be easygoing. Obviously, whatever leniency or
stringency is introduced by the minor premise, exempts its subject from incompatible
stringencies or leniencies applicable to the major subject in other propositions; but such
exemptions emerge from distinct arguments, under the shelo kheinyano rule; so they are
not, properly speaking, a direct outcome of the shehu kheinyano rule. However, residual
factors specified or implied somewhere in the text with regard to the major subject, which
have not been explicitly or by implication eliminated by the minor premise, may
reasonably be assumed to remain applicable to the latters subject, unless or until we have
reason to believe otherwise.
In this perspective, the phrase lehaqel velo lehachamir, used for shehu kheinyano,
is especially intended to contrast with the phrase lehaqel ulehachamir, used for shelo
kheinyano, with respect to this issue of methodology.

Rule No. 11, the last of the principles starting with the common phrase kol davar
shehayah bikhlal veyatsa..., completes it with the words ...lidon badavar hechadash, y ata
yakhol lehachaziro likhlalo, ad sheyachazirenu hakatuv likhlalo beferush. Translated
literally, it says: anything which was in a generality and came out to be dealt with within a
new matter, you cannot return it to its initial generality until Scripture returns it to its
243

This is true in all exegesis: it is granted by the Rabbis, who said ain miqra yotse miyedei
feshuto ("a Scriptural verse never loses its plain meaning", Enc. Jud. referring us to Shab. 63a,
Yev. 24a). In formal contexts, 'simple meaning' refers to the minimum necessary implication of any
proposition, namely an indefinite particular.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

177

initial generality explicitly. This rule, albeit superficial appearances is very different
from the preceding three. It may be stated as if a member of a certain class, subject to
certain predicate(s), becomes a member of a new class entirely, subject to other
predicate(s), then again becomes apparently subsumed under its initial classification, it
should not recover the predicates of that classification, except in the event that Scripture
clearly grants such recovery. In symbolic terms, this definition says the following:
(i) at first,

x, an individual, is S1, a subject-class,

and All S1 are P1, a predicate (whence x is P1);
(ii) later,
x ceases to be S1 and becomes S2, another subject-class,
and All S2 are P2, another predicate (whence x is P2);
(iii) yet later, x ceases to be S2 and becomes S1 (though No S2 is S1);
(iv) in such eventuality,
though x is (again) S1, it is not necessarily (again) P1, and
though x is not (any longer) S2, it is not necessarily not (any longer) P2.
A note on terminology, with regard to this rule. It consists of three (compound) premises,
with an underlying subject (x), two subject-concepts (S1, S2) and two predicates (P1, P2). We shall
refer to the premises as the major (i), minor (ii) and middle (iii), though their conceptual levels are
independent; and to the respective subjects and predicates of the major and minor premises
accordingly. The (compound) conclusion (iv) is a modal statement (of the logical type),
forewarning us not to draw certain hasty inferences from the premises.

Let us analyze this situation. We are concerned, here, not with the various
classifications of different individuals (extensional modality), but with actual travels of an
individual from one class to another and back (natural modality). In the preceding three
hermeneutic rules (Nos. 8-10), the issue was how to handle a static situation, where
Scripture treats subjects belonging to a subclass seemingly somewhat differently from the
way they are treated in the framework of an overclass. The individual subjects are
members of the two classes simultaneously; they are not undergoing change, in the sense
of becoming, actually ceasing to be one thing and then reemerging as something else. In
the present rule, we confront the issue of metamorphosis, which has very distinct logical
properties244; specifically, the issue is a circular movement: membership in one class, then
shift over to a new class, and finally return to the original class.
I derived my reading of the rule from an illustration given by Scherman. Lev. 22:10-11
inform us that common Jews (non-priests) and tenants or hired servants of priests are forbidden to
consume holy things, while servants bought by priests or born in their house may do so. We know
(either by a davqa reading of the latter verses, or a qal vachomer from home-born servants, or from
an unstated verse) that a priests daughter (our symbol, x), whether as a member of her fathers
household before she marries a commoner or as the wife of another priest (S1), is permitted such
food (P1). Verses 12-13 tell us that it is, however, forbidden (P2) to her (x) while married to a
commoner (S2); though if she is thereafter widowed or divorced... and returns to her fathers house,
as in her youth (S1), she may consume it (P1). In our example, Scripture happens to explicitly grant
reentry of the daughter under the category of priests household for the purpose of eating holy
things; but the fact that this had to be specified is in itself significant, implying that it could not be
simply presumed from the mere fact of her return home (or coupled with a-fortiori from v. 11
concerning bought servants, who are newcomers to the household).

244

See our logic primer, ch. 1.2.

178

JUDAIC LOGIC

In the rule of lidon badavar hechadash, unlike the others, the categories of subject
(S1, S2) are not overlapping, they are at variance (they have a common member, x, but at
different times); as for the predicates (P1, P2), their mutual relationship is irrelevant, here.
The major predicate (P1) applies to our individual qua (in his capacity as, by virtue of) his
belonging to the first subject-concept (S1); similarly, the minor predicate (P2) comes to
apply to it qua the second subject-concept (S2). With reference to the third premise, a
legitimate question arises, was the original subject-class (S1) intended broadly enough to
include returnees from an alternate subject-class (like S2), so that the earlier predicate (P1)
again applies; or does the later predicate (P2) remain in force (or, perhaps, some third
predicate come into play)?
From the point of view of syllogistic logic, granting the premises at their facevalue, the general element of the major premise, All S1 are P1, combined with the final
element of the middle premise, x is (again) S1, would formally yield the conclusion x is
(again) P1. As for the elements x is no longer S2 of the middle premise and All S2 are
P2 of the minor premise, they do not clarify whether x has remained P2 or is no longer P2
(of course, if P1 and P2 are incompatible, x must cease to be P2; but if they are compatible,
the final predicate of x is undetermined). R. Ishmael is clearly aware of these two logical
consequences; however, he forewarns us not to blindly follow the first (though, concerning
the second, he and formal logic agree).
If we accept the first premise as literally general, our conclusion has to be that the
first predicate again comes into force. However, in view of our knowledge that (a) changes
of the kind considered do occur in nature and Scripture, and keeping in mind that (b) the
intent of general statements in the Torah is occasionally not literal, we cannot presume
such an automatic conclusion, and are wise to leave the question open, awaiting Scriptures
answer (directly or indirectly). The literal option is deductive, the anti-literal one is
inductive. This hermeneutic rule, instead of advocating some conclusion, preempts any
eventual conclusion; its purpose is to ensure that deductive logic is not mechanically used,
when the events described take place, unless the text justifies it.
More precisely, according to this rule, if Scripture reiterates the subsumption of the
ambulant individual under the major premise (after the said changes), then the major
premises generality is confirmed; if, however, Scripture fails to do so explicitly, the
suggested reaction is, effectively, to particularize the major premise to Not all S1 are P1.
These alternative further proceedings (confirmation or particularization of the major
premise) constitute a finite conclusion; so the process lidon badavar hechadash can be said
to have conditional conclusions (rather than merely inhibiting any conclusion).
The above treatment of the rule is different from the traditional, but I think there is no
possible doubt that the situation we have described is what R. Ishmael was trying to project. His use
here of the qualifier chadash (new), rather than acher (other) as in the preceding two rules, confirms
my view, as it suggests actual change of something, instead of a mere intellectual separation
between different things. In any event, it would certainly be a wise rule to have; and traditional
formulations, as we will now show, do not add anything of practical value to the previous rules and
so cannot be appropriate.
If we read this rule as traditionally done, the formalities are indistinguishable from those of
the rule shelo kheinyano, if not also the rule shehu kheinyano245. But there is no way for formal logic
to discriminate between degrees of difference between incompatible classes, so that any principle
formulated on such basis is bound to be subjectively used. The traditional reading is thus, for all
practical purposes, indistinguishable and useless. If we are to assume R. Ishmael to have been saying
245

The traditional reading of shehu is formally indistinguishable from shelo; so in that reading
both are indistinguishable from lidon badavar hechadash. But if we read shehu as concerned with
compatible predicates, as I do, then it is not comparable to the traditional reading of lidon.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

179

something meaningful and valuable, the reading I have proposed (based, note well, on an accepted
example) seems a better candidate.

It has to be said that the forms ascribed to material cases by the Rabbis are often
wrong. Because of their lack of formal tools, the Rabbis often misread the hermeneutic
principles; that is, they misplace examples, and since their understanding of the principles
is largely based on examples, they are often at a loss to clarify the whys and wherefores of
their reasoning processes and to distinguish them from each other. One might have
supposed that, since they formulated the principles in the first place, they ought to know
more than anyone else just what they mean by them and be free to classify examples under
the headings of their choice. But the issue is more complicated than that.
It is evident that the theory and practice of Rabbinic exegesis developed in tandem,
over time. The Rabbis observed themselves thinking in a certain manner in certain
situations, and subsequently were encouraged to think in the same manner again in other
situations. Very often, the similarity between the situations was forced, and we can see a
very artificial effort to jam the example into a mold, to make it fit-in to the desired
format246. The fact that the formats were themselves rather vaguely defined, facilitated such
square-peg-in-a-round-hole antics. But also, we see an uncertainty concerning the
opposition of terms or theses: different is often confused with incompatible;
incompatibility is thought to have degrees; the formal opposition of compounds is not
analyzed; and so forth.
All this is further complicated by the existence, in Rabbinic thought processes, of
implicit (hidden or not consciously acknowledged) generalizations and exclusive readings,
which are just taken for granted. The claim of Sinaitic tradition which gradually developed,
and the intimidation it occasioned (the reluctance to question past authorities for fear of
rejection by ones peers), caused the accumulation and perpetuation of such errors, because
the process of repeated peer review which normally would uncover and correct errors was
considerably inhibited. At best, we can call it incompetence; at worst (to the extent that the
authors concerned sensed that they were misrepresenting the principles or contriving the
compliance of examples) deception and manipulation.
As a consequence of the various circumstances just described, exegetic acts are
wrongly classed, under rule 10 instead of 9 or 9 instead of 10, or 11 instead of 9 or 10, for
instances (examples of such misclassification are presented and analyzed in Appendix 6247).
Before closing the discussion of the five kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa...
rules, I want to again emphasize that my analysis was based on formalization of a limited
number of examples. It therefore depends on generalization; for it is not inconceivable that
examples exist where the Rabbis have drawn conclusions of objectively other forms than
those here encountered (whatever their theoretical claims). Ideally, our study should have
been based on comprehensive enumeration of all Talmudic (and post-Talmudic) exegetic
246

This effect is sometimes achieved by passing over some relevant detail in the written text,
as we see in an example given further on. We might regard this as a non-formal issue; or refer to it
as a failure to take into consideration the full context of information available. There are no doubt
other ways 'molding' occurs. The reason for this practice is that it 'legitimizes' an argument, gives it
a semblance of being traditional.
247
I apologize to readers for going into such detail, but it is necessary, to substantiate my
serious accusations. I hope one day someone takes the trouble to analyze all extant Rabbinic
arguments in equal, and indeed greater, detail; it bothers me when people get away with fallacious
reasoning. It should be clear that it is not the content that concerns me, I do not care what the
Halakhic outcome is; what is important is that the process be valid.

180

JUDAIC LOGIC

acts; such a feat is beyond my reach, since I lack the necessary linguistic tools (Hebrew
and Aramaic) and since as far as I know no one has drawn up the required listing (let alone
in English) - but I hope someone will one day perform the feat. Nevertheless, what is
reasonably certain is that I have formalized the examples available to me accurately, so that
we now have an at least partial formal picture of actual Rabbinic thinking processes,
enough to formulate a verdict of sorts (comparing the empirical data to Rabbinic
pronouncements and to formal logic).
In any case, this research at least has served to establish a clear and sure
methodology for the independent audit of Rabbinic harmonization rules and acts. That is
in itself a highly important finding, which took time and effort to develop, since no one had
done it before and it was not immediately evident.

Finally, we come to Rule No. 13, which states: vekhen, shnei khetuvim
hamakhechishim zeh et zeh ad sheyavo hakatuv hashlishi veyakhriyaa beneihem. This
means, clearly, two writings which deny each other until a third comes which reconciles
them. It refers to a situation where we come across two propositions in Scripture, say P
and Q, which appear conflicting; the midah recommends we find a third proposition in the
text, R, which somehow or other resolves the disagreement between them. Such
reconciliation may logically result in neither, or either, or both, the initial two propositions
being modified by the third, depending on the role the latter plays:
P and Q remain finally unaffected by R; but R shows that the presumed
conflict does not in fact occur in their case.
An example given in Enc. Jud.: according to Exod. 19:20, the Lord came down upon
Mount Sinai, and according to Deut. 4:36, out of heaven He made you hear His voice. These
passages seem to imply that God was both down close to the Earth and up in the heavens; but the
apparent antithesis is dissolved, by Sifra (1:7), which alleges248, with reference to Exod. 20:19, ye
yourselves have seen that I have talked with you from heaven, that God brought the heavens down
with Him when He spoke. Here, the assumption that the heavens stayed in their normal place (up),
which was the source of conflict, is denied.

P and Q are finally admitted to be in conflict; but R shows P and/or Q to be

more limited than presumed, one or both being in fact conditional rather
than (as apparent) categorical, or contingent rather than (as apparent)
general.
An example given by Bergman, Num. 7:89 says that Moses went into the Tent of
Meeting to speak with God, whereas Exod. 40:35 says that he was not able to enter into it,
adding because the cloud dwelt thereon. The latter clause was needed to resolve the contradiction
between the first two statements, making them both conditional: Moses came in and spoke with God
when the cloud departed, and he stayed out when it was there.

Note the distinct symbolization used in the present rule, in comparison to the other
hermeneutic rules: here, we refer to whole propositions (P, Q, R) of whatever form, rather
than to propositions of specified forms (as with a-fortiori argument or with the preceding
rules of harmonization), or to terms (as with klalim uphratim). The 13th rule is the least
248

The reading in Sifra is by no means that I can see obvious; so this is not an example of
Scriptural reconciliation, but merely one of Rabbinical reconciliation. See further on.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

181

structured and mechanical of the harmonization rules: we must look all over the text for a
premise which is not formally pre-defined, so that our intuitive faculty is more active.
Whereas in the other rules, the result is arrived at (for good or bad) more directly and
virtually automatically.
The processes involved here are perfectly natural inductive processes, widely used
to harmonize apparent divergences in the ever-changing context of empirical and rational
knowledge. In natural contexts, they serve to restore consistency when it seems
momentarily lost, adducing that either the apparent conflict was illusory for some reason,
or that one or both of the conflicting theses were over-generalized or under-particularized
or otherwise off-the-mark. In a Scriptural context, it is hopefully the text itself which
provides the solution to the problem, informing us of some natural event or specification,
or in certain cases a miracle, which modifies our reading of the situation and removes any
antinomy.
Note that, according to Jew. Enc., R. Akiba considered the resolution to be adoption of one
of the conflicting propositions, whereas R. Ishmael opted for the view that both are to be modified.
But I stress that, formally speaking, there are many possible resolutions, as here specified.

It has to be said that the conflict may not be immediately obvious; often, it is only
noticed centuries after the Talmud, sometimes by a picky commentator out to make some
point. Also, as originally formulated, the rule of shnei khetuvim predicts that a third
proposition, hakatuv hashlishi, will be found in the text to restore the lost equilibrium.
However, that is often not literally the case; often, the conflict is actually resolved only by
Rabbinic intervention, with reference to a commentary well-established in the oral tradition
or by means of a new commentary (with, in many cases, different commentators making
different suggestions). In my view, such external intervention requires no special
dispensation, since the process, as already noted, is quite legitimate according to generic
logic; provided, of course, that it is properly carried out, that is to say, flexibly willing to
revise postulates which eventually cause difficulties of their own.
Some commentators (Bergman cites Tosefos Haazarah) have felt a need to justify Rabbinic
intervention, and did so with reference to the phrase vekhen, which begins the formulation of this
rule by R. Ishmael. They read vekhen as and, similarly, and refer it to the preceding rule (No. 12),
claiming that the present rule concerns situations where no harmonization is given by the immediate
context (meinyano or misofo), and empowers the Sages to decide the issue249. However, this
attempted justification does not account for the reference to a third Scriptural passage (hakatuv
hashlishi). Indeed, according to that view, when Scripture explicitly resolves the conflict, no
exegesis has actually taken place, and the rule only refers to situations where Scripture remains
silent!
But, in my view, the phrase vekhen could equally well, and more credibly, be read as and,
also, and taken to refer loosely to all the preceding hermeneutic rules, merely implying that the
present rule is the last in the list (or, perhaps, last but not least). When Scripture provides a solution
of the problem, it is still exegesis, insofar as we have to find the relevant passage; the rule, in such
case, serves to remind us to look for it. As for where Scripture does not seem to provide a solution,
why not say that such cases are dealt with using R. Ishmaels other rules of harmonization. In
practice, it is a very fine line which divides the two situations: many allegedly Scriptural resolutions
are not automatic, but presuppose a certain Rabbinic reading of the text (e.g. the Sifra reading in the
above given example).
249

In other words, according to this view, rule No. 13 concerns, not explicit (meforash)
reconciliations, by the Torah itself, but implicit (satum) ones, by the Sages. Bergman adds,
characteristically, "and the Torah requires us to follow their determinations", but he does not state
where it does so.

182

JUDAIC LOGIC

The last of the Thirteen Midot is the prototype for the series of rules concerned with
harmonization, in that it most clearly depicts the form of reasoning known as dialectic,
whose pattern is thesis-antithesis-synthesis250. Its hierarchical position is ambivalent. It
should, in a way, have been listed first among them, because it is the one most deeply
anchored in the text (lidon badavar hechadash has a similar distinction). Before applying
any other form of harmonization, we would naturally try to find within the text itself some
resolution of the perceived conflict. Failing to find an explicit remark directly or indirectly
capable of resolving the difficulty, we might then apply more mechanical procedures,
especially that of shelo kheinyano (since lelamed, shehu kheinyano and lidon relate to
perceived redundancies, discrepancies, doubts or interpretative tensions, rather than formal
inconsistencies).
However, the Rabbis also, apparently, occasionally appeal to the 13th rule to justify
more intuitive reconciliations. In that sense, it is also a last resort, and is well placed in the
list. If we wish to explicitly acknowledge such reasoning in cases where no Scriptural
passage explicitly, or indirectly through one of the other rules of exegesis (assuming them
not to be exhaustive), settles the observed difference between two passages, we would have
to add a clause to the 13th rule, to the effect that, under those conditions, some credible
and consistent reconciling postulate needs to be found. I think it is fair to say that this
added clause has been tacitly accepted and used by all commentators, including R. Ishmael
himself. As already said, the pattern of thought involved is natural, and therefore needs no
special certification in Biblical contexts, if properly used.
The way certain postulates have come to be preferred to others over time, is simply through
the process of peer group review; this consisted in debate among experts to ensure the credibility
and consistency of such postulates. That kind of process is, in principle, normal and healthy,
effectively a process of collective knowledge development, a garde fou found in every scientific
discipline. Of course, peculiar to Rabbinic thinking (and similar enterprises in other religions), are
its historically evident authoritarian aspects.

The above comments are based on the data I have for the 13th rule. However, it
may be that, with a larger data base, we could formulate the rule with more precision.
Among the possible outcomes or alternative theories are the following:
It could be that rule 13 is concerned, distinctively, with cases where the subjects
(or antecedents) of the conflicting propositions are one and the same (or, though
different concepts, logically mutual implicants). This is confirmed by the above
given two examples; and would distinguish it from rules 8-10, where the major
and minor subjects (or antecedents) are subalternatives, and from rule 11, where
they are incompatible. In that event, the 13th rule would be defined more
precisely, as an argument where All S are P1 (major premise), All S are P2
(minor premise), No P1 is P2 (predicatal premise), whose conclusion consists
in denying at least one of those three premises.
Alternatively, the rule in question may be wider than that in application, and
include all cases where the predicates are incompatible (whatever the relation of
the subjects). In that event, shelo kheinyano would be a special case of shnei
250

With regard to this three-word description of dialectic, the following is worth noting. At first
sight, "thesis" and "antithesis" refer to the two ideas in conflict, and "synthesis" to their
reconciliation. But we could also say, upon reflection, that "thesis" refers to both the ideas in
conflict, "antithesis" to the realization that they are in conflict, and "synthesis" (as before) to the
resolution of the conflict.

THE THIRTEEN MIDOT (II)

183

khetuvim hamakhechishim, and the latter would cover additional situations, such
as where the corresponding predicatal premise is denied or where the subjects
are identical.
It is also possible that rule 13 was intended to cover, not merely inconsistencies
in the strict sense, but in the wider sense understood by the Rabbis, who look
upon any discrepancy or redundancy or source of doubt as calling for a
harmonizing response of some sort. This outlook was evident in the rules of
lelamed, shehu kheinyano and lidon badavar hechadash. In that event, rule 13
would add to rules 8-11 the function of conflict resolution by alteration of
subjectal or predicatal premises. It might similarly embrace the klalim uphratim
rules and others still251.
We must also keep in mind that, from a formal point of view, the conclusions
recommended by the Rabbis in many of the previous rules are not logically necessary. It
follows that they are likely to occasionally lead to inconsistencies, and must be regarded as
at best tentative. The resolution of such a derivative inconsistency, merely by retreat from
the results of application of an unnecessary midah, might have been intended by R.
Ishmael as subsumed under the present rule.
Concerning adduction, which we saw (in ch. 2) is a Torah-given reasoning process, though
one not noticed as such by the Rabbis, nor enshrined by them as a hermeneutic rule. It might be
argued that, since adduction is harmonization between conceptual prediction and empirical findings,
it belongs under Rule 13. However, to there subsume it, we would have to expand R. Ishmaels
statement, since the latter relates specifically to textual harmonization - it does not discuss
confrontations and reconciliations between the Book, or interpretations thereof (by Rabbis or other
people), and external reality. Nevertheless, if the rule is adapted, as above suggested, to allow for
harmonization by human (at least, Rabbinic) insight, then it may be considered as also including
adductive issues.

251

For instance, the weird semukhim argument, offered by Bergman (see footnote 15 of
previous chapter), might be regarded as a "resolution of conflict" of sorts (though one of very
doubtful validity).

184

JUDAIC LOGIC

12. THE SINAI CONNECTION.

We shall now look into the issue of the Sinaitic origin of Talmudic/Rabbinic
hermeneutics.

1.

Verdict on Rabbinic Hermeneutics.

I have no doubt that certain doctrinaire defenders of Judaism will be very upset
with me for the devastating deconstruction of Rabbinic hermeneutics in the previous two
chapters. But I have to say that my conscience is clear: facts are facts, logic is logic. I did
not set off with the intention to discredit Jewish law; quite the opposite, I was hoping to
find it valid. However, I resolved to make an objective assessment of the processes
involved, unmoved by any considerations but truth, applying my logical know-how to the
full. I imagine that God approves, since I believe the Rabbinic characterization of Him as
the God of Truth literally. I admit that the religious consequences of the results obtained
are many and complex, and not all good. But that is none of my business, which is only
methodological; I have neither the ability, nor the inclination, to sort out the religious
consequences.
No doubt, too, I will be accused of being haughty and unlearned, and said to interpret
the teaching according to my personal desires, to use the words of R. Simlai252. It is true that I
have at most a superficial knowledge of Jewish law, having studied the Talmud very little (in large
part due to finding its reasoning processes frustrating). However, just as a theoretical physicist, say,
need never enter into a laboratory, but may work with the results of experimental research by others;
so in my case, I have built up my analysis of Rabbinic reasoning on the basis of data made available
by relative experts in the Talmud. Division of labour is virtually inevitable in the collective pursuit
of knowledge; each worker has his special abilities. My gift - I humbly thank God for it, for I do not
see how I might have deserved such a gift - is logic; and I have chosen to apply it to this domain,
confident that I would make some valuable contributions (and perhaps sensing a certain naivety and
bias in my predecessors).

My method simply consisted in analyzing traditional data, examples and principles

put-forward by Judaism itself, with reference to scientific logic. A better method,
admittedly, would have been to study the Talmud and other Rabbinic literature directly,
and build up a thorough data-base of independent observations of actual thought processes,
for evaluation by logic. However, the former approach does not exclude the latter approach
from being eventually performed; and the latter approachs desirability does not diminish
the value of, or invalidate, the former approach. We can compare this to chemical analysis,
when samples of a body are taken and their chemical compositions are correctly identified;
that conceivably and quite probably other samples, not yet taken, may have other
252

Quoted by Bergman (p. 99), with reference to Yerushalmi to Pesachim 5:3. This statement
concerned the teaching of Hagadah to 'Babylonians or people from the South'.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

185

chemistries, does not mean that the samples already analyzed were not properly analyzed.
In our case, additionally, the processes we have analyzed are regarded by tradition (rightly
or wrongly) as representative253.
Let us summarize, very briefly, the results of our research into the 13 Midot, with a
view to distinguishing their natural and artificial aspects. Note first that all the rules suffer
to some extent from vagueness and ambiguity, which means that they are bound to be
applied with some amount of anarchy.
Qal vachomer, as we have shown, is a natural and valid form of reasoning. It was
reasonably well-understood and competently-practiced by the Rabbis (this is not of
course intended as a blank-check statement, a blanket guarantee that all Rabbinic afortiori arguments are faultless254), without weird embellishments. So, we can say that
this first midah has essentially no artificial components; though Rabbinic attempts to
reserve and regulate use of this midah (see further on) must be viewed as artificial addons.
Gezerah shavah is based on a natural thought-process, comparison and contrast, which
applied to textual analysis pursues equations in meaning (synonymy) or wording
(homonymy). Analogy is scientifically acceptable, though only insofar as it is controlled
by adductive methods, namely ongoing observation of and adaptation to available data.
While the Rabbis demonstrated some skill in such inference by analogy, they did not
clearly grasp nor fully submit to the checks and balances such reasoning requires.
Instead of referring to objective procedures, they tried to reserve and regulate use of this
midah (again, see further on) by authoritarian means; and moreover, they introduced
logically irrelevant provisions, on the freedom of the terms or theses involved. Thus,
this rule, though it has a considerable natural basis, eventually developed quite a large
artificial protuberance, and should not in practice be trusted implicitly.
Inferences from context, including heqesh, semukhim, meinyano and misofo, are like
arguments by analogy, in that the primitive mind accepts them immediately, just
because they appear reasonable. But, upon reflection, we must admit the need for
verification procedures; and, ultimately, the only scientific means we have is adduction
(repeated testing, and confirmation or elimination, of hypotheses). In any event,
proximity is not, even in theory, always significant; so one cannot formulate a hard and
fast rule about it. It follows that the Rabbinic attempt to do so is bound to be rather
artificial, to the extent that it is presented as more than just a possibility among others.
Binyan av is, as we have indicated, a Rabbinic attempt at causal logic. The induction of
causes and effects is, of course, a natural and legitimate process, when properly
performed, by observing the conjunction or separation of phenomena, tabulating the
information and looking for behaviour patterns. The Rabbinic attempt at such reasoning
was, I am sorry to say, less than brilliant. The Rabbis seem to have grasped the positive
253

Though not necessarily exhaustive. For anyone who might want to pursue similar research
further, I pass on interesting the information given by J.E. that Malbim, in Ayelet haShachar,
collects "all the hermeneutic rules scattered through the Talmudim and Midrashim," which are
reckoned as 613 in number. I did not look into this source, which is likely to be rich. But, however
rich it is, we are not exempted by it from looking into the matter with our own eyes and attitudes.
254
In particular, though the dayo principle was formulated by Rabbis, some other Rabbis
resisted it; as we saw, there were good reasons on both sides, meaning that it is sometimes
imperative and sometimes avoidable, so that this theoretical controversy can be excused.
However, there were in practice some inexcusable breaches of that principle - inexcusable, within
the given context.

186

JUDAIC LOGIC

aspect of causal reasoning, but apparently could not quite grasp the negative aspect255. In
practice, they may have often intuited causal relations correctly; but they had difficulty
analyzing the relationship theoretically, in words. The outcome of such relative failure,
is that binyan av efforts must be viewed with suspicion, and classed among the artificial
aspects of Rabbinic exegesis.
The various klalim uphratim rules (including both R. Ishmaels and R. Akibas
variants) reflect a natural aspect of exegesis, but insofar as they rigidly impose
interpretations which have conceivable alternatives, they must be judged as somewhat
or occasionally artificial. This regards theory; regarding practice, we can go much
further. In many cases, these rules are applied very artificially, being used as mere
pretexts for contrived acts which have no real relation to them. If we regard every such
false appeal to these principles as an effective instance of them (viewed more largely),
then their artificial component is considerably enlarged.
With regard to the first few rules starting with the phrase kol davar shehayah bikhlal
veyatsa, we found their common properties to be their concern with subalternative
subjects (or antecedents) with variously opposed predicates (or consequents). Where the
predicates are in a parallel relation compared to the subjects, the conclusion generalizes
the minor predicate to the major subject (lelamed oto hadavar). Where the predicates
are in an anti-parallel relation compared to the subjects, the conclusion renders the
minor premise exclusive and particularizes the major premise (lelamed hefekh
hadavar). Where the predicates are incompatible, the conclusion is similar in form to
the preceding, though for different reasons; and perhaps additionally, it renders the
minor subject and major predicate incompatible (liton toan acher shelo kheinyano).
With regard to situations where the predicates are otherwise compatible (liton toan
acher shehu kheinyano), our research has not determined the Rabbinic conclusion and
left the issue open.
Now, in all these cases, except for the main conclusions of shelo kheinyano, which
resolve significant inconsistencies in accord with natural logic, the Rabbinic conclusions
are deductively unnecessary: they are at best inductive preferences. However, since they
are viewed by the Rabbis, not as tentative hypotheses open to testing, but as laws to be
followed come what may, they must be considered as arbitrary and artificial.
Furthermore, while we have attempted to determine the exact forms of these laws, the
Rabbis themselves are not always clear on this issue, and occasionally misplace
examples; this is an additional reason to regard their activities under these rubrics
(except, to repeat, for legitimate harmonization) as suspect and artificial.
The rule lidon badavar hechadash, which the Rabbis were not sure how to distinguish,
was found by formal methods with reference to examples to concern movements of
individuals from one class to another and back; it was intended by R. Ishmael to raise a
question with regard to corresponding changes in predication. While a literal approach
to text would reject such a question, within a more open-minded exegetic system, it
seems reasonable enough. Epistemologically, this rule instills exceptional caution in the
situations concerned, making inferences conditional on reconfirmation. However, even
255

I wonder how many of them would pass the "Wason test", which is described as follows
(based on Michael Thompson-Noel, in Financial Times, 15-16/4/1995): we are shown four cards
labeled A, D, 3, 6, and told that cards with a vowel on one side always have an even number on the
reverse side; the question is, which cards (at least) should be turned over to check the truth of the
foregoing generality? The correct answer is (WAIT! test yourself before reading on!): the cards A
(to verify that an even number is written on the reverse side) and 3 (to verify that there is not a
vowel on the reverse side); D and 6 being irrelevant.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

187

if we do not classify this rule as overly artificial on theoretical grounds, we must regard
some of its alleged applications with considerable suspicion, in view of the evidence
that the Rabbis are unclear about it.
Lastly, the rule shnei khetuvim hamakhechishim, viewed as a wide-ranging
harmonization principle, may be classed as an important aspect of natural logic.
However, this essential validity does not automatically justify every dialectical act
found in Rabbinic literature; quite often, Rabbinic interventions under this guise are
rather forced. Furthermore, this rule may not, in fact, have been intended by R. Ishmael
to cover every conflict resolution (or at least every conflict not resolved by preceding
rules); its scope may have been intended to be premises with a common subject (or
antecedent) and variously opposed predicates (or consequents). Such uncertainties in
definition call for caution, too. In sum, this rule, as with most of the previous, in practice
if not in theory, contains artificial factors.
This summary makes clear that we cannot define in one sentence the distinctive
features of Rabbinic logic, i.e. those aspects of it which are not granted universal validity
by natural logic. Broadly speaking, the Rabbis developed distinct modes of thought due
to lack of formal tools, consequent vagueness in theoretical definitions, and resulting
uncertainties in practical applications. Their natural logic was gradually thickened by an
agglutination of diverse artificial elements, which became more and more difficult to sort
out, and more and more imposing. Being manifestly unjustifiable by natural means, these
extra elements had to be defended by intimidation, with appeal to Divine sanction and the
authority of Tradition.
The verdict on most of Rabbinic hermeneutics, emerging from our precise logical
analysis has to be, crudely put, thumbs-down256. In the last analysis, whatever it is, it is not
a teaching of pure logic257. There are, to be sure, many aspects of it which are perfectly
natural and logical258. But certain distinctive aspects of it, which we may refer to as
peculiarly Judaic logic, must be admitted to be, for the most part, either non-sequiturs or
antinomial; in all evidence, products of very muddled thinking. We could, with an effort,
make allowance for many of the latter processes, if they were viewed as ab-initio tentative
hypotheses, inductive first-preferences, subject to further confirmation or at least to nonrejection by the remaining body of knowledge. But they are traditionally presented as
irrevocable certainties, quasi-deductive processes, not subject to critical review (at least,
without a special license granted to a privileged few). So we must evaluate them in that
given framework.

256

I was myself so shocked by this surprising negative verdict that I renamed the book.
Originally, I had intended to call it Jewish Logic, out of pride in my people's early progress in certain
aspects of logic, such as adduction, a-fortiori and dialectic. But after completing analysis of all the
hermeneutic principles, it became clear that I could only call the book Judaic Logic!
257
I guess I am indulging in a bit of irony here. I mean, either Rabbinic hermeneutics is
intended as a teaching of logic, in which case it is pseudo-logic; or it is not so intended, in which
case it is misleading to present (as often done) Rabbinic arguments as processes of reasoning
which lead to a conclusion: every argument must be viewed as a mere decree. But anyhow, we
cannot have it both ways. It is significant that midot is translated as 'principles of logic' in many
bilingual Jewish prayer books; Lewittes, p. 66, n. 61, informs us that this is a decision of the
Rabbinical Council.
258
This proves nothing in itself, since (as Rabbis themselves have said) there is always a
kernel of truth in a false statement. It has to be so: without some reality to lean on, illusion cannot
exist at all; no one would at all believe a false statement if it did not contain some truth. The issue is
always to separate the husk of falsehood, and weigh it against the kernel of truth.

188

JUDAIC LOGIC
Whatever traditional claims, according to logic it is virtually inevitable that, in a large body
of information, the adoption of unnecessary postulates and the arbitrary contradiction of given data
will result in hidden, if not obvious, inconsistencies. All the more so, where the proof-text itself is
rather ambiguous, disorderly and confusing, as is the Torah, so that one must proceed very carefully.
To arrive at a consistent result, using artificial processes like R. Ishmaels rules, it is essential to
have a certain leeway, a possibility to retreat as well as advance. If each rule has to be applied
rigidly and irreversibly, the end-result is bound to be untenable, and only capable of being sustained
by lies and self-delusion. Even a simple, natural generalization of some Scriptural statement,
through say a lelamed oto hadavar, may turn out to be in conflict with some other textual statement;
how much more so with a complex, twisted paralogism, like say a lelamed hefekh hadavar. In such
cases, we must either retract or modify the text: on what basis we are allowed to do the latter,
without absolute logical need, I have no idea; it would seem much more justifiable to do the former.
Surely, our primary axiom must be that the Torah is more reliable than Rabbinic constructs.

The only conceivable defense against the results of the present research is to say
that the rules of Rabbinic exegesis constitute a secret code, by which instructions in the
Torah are to be transformed into valid legal statements. This thesis suggests that God
deliberately wrote the Torah in a misleading way, not wanting everyone to have access to
His real intentions, but only a select few (the Jewish Rabbis), to whom a conversion table,
the hermeneutic principles, was specially revealed for decoding purposes. Thus, according
to this idea, God said (in effect) when, for instance, I assign an implying predicate to a
subordinate subject in the Torah, you must contradict the Torah statement where I assigned
the implied predicate to the subaltern subject (lelamed hefekh hadavar). Put in clear
terms, this is effectively the defense proposed by the orthodox establishment. They put it
more romantically, with reference to allusions and hidden mysteries which defy literal
interpretation259, but that is what they mean.
Thus, in that view, the Torah can, and often does, mean more or less than what it
says. For this is what happens: when, without logical necessity, the Rabbis generalize a
particular statement or read a statement exclusively260, they add to the law; and when,
likewise, they particularize a general statement, they subtract from the law. This thesis is
not inconceivable, but it is rather far-fetched and difficult to believe. One may well wonder
why God would want to engage in such shenanigans, and not speak clearly and straightly.
If His purpose was to illuminate humankind in general, and the Jewish people in particular,
with a perfect law, full of Divine wisdom and love, justice and mercy, purity and
spirituality, why not say just what He means? Why would He need to mask His true
intentions, and give the key to them only to the Rabbis?261
All this concerns, note well, especially situations which do not logically entail or
call for the Rabbinic responses. In situations where logic clearly demands a certain
inference or resolution of conflict, there is no need of special revelations; everyone is
(more or less) in principle naturally endowed with the required intellectual means.
Rabbinic hermeneutics, as a Divinely-granted privilege, come into play, essentially,
wherever logic is faced with a problematic issue, because Scripture, taken as a whole, does
not answer some question, but leaves a gap. The gap may be an indefinite particular
259

I quote Bergman again (p. 99), who uses this language with reference to Hagadic
statements of the Rabbis; but I have seen similar language used with reference to the Torah.
260
Crediting the rest of, or the negation of, the subject with the negation of the predicate,
beyond the license given by eductive logic.
261
I am not a crypto-Karaite, nor belong to any other sect or religion; this is a candid and
honest question by a 'normal Jew', who practices tant bien que mal the religion of his forefathers,
so far. Another question worth asking is: why would God not wish to teach us logic and orderly
thinking; what advantage would He have in confusing and epistemologically incapacitating people?
As far as I can see, only a clerical class can gain from such assumptions.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

189

proposition: should we read it as general or contingent? In natural knowledge, the preferred

course262 would be generalization. Alternatively, the gap may consist in total silence about
some subject, without even a guiding particular proposition. In natural ethics, we might opt
for permissiveness, or at best a conventional law.
When dealing with a presumably Divinely revealed database, such as the Torah,
instead of knowledge naturally developed in the minds of human beings, scientific logic
cannot predict with certainty what the intent of the Law-Giver was, in the event of gaps. It
is, arguably, more likely that an indefinite particular proposition be read as contingent, and
it is conceivable that more radical gaps are to be filled by the decision of Divinelyappointed judges (as Deut. 17:8-13 suggests). The latter possibility would justify additions
to the law (pronouncing an indefinite particular to be exclusive, or generalizing it, or
formulating a completely new provision, are all references to previously unaddressed
instances); but it would not justify subtractions from the law (other than particularizations
called for by manifest contradictions, which cannot be resolved otherwise).
Yet the Torah explicitly frowns on additions (tosafot) to, as well as subtractions
(geronot) from, the Written Law, in passages like the following263:
Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye
diminish from it, that ye may keep the commandments of the Lord (Deut. 4:2).
All this word which I command you, that shall ye observe to do; thou shalt
not add thereto, nor diminish from it (Deut. 13:1).
Such passages could be interpreted literally, to imply that even where gaps are
found, no human legislator or legislative body may presume to try and fill them. The very
human, and particularly Rabbinic, tendency to legislate about almost everything would
seem to be illegal264. In this perspective, when the written Divine law is obscure, albeit all
efforts of pure logic made to clarify it, there is effectively no Divine law (on the subject at
hand). The appointment of judges is then merely intended for the application of Divine
law; that is, to decide in each case whether Divine law has been broken, or in whose favour
Divine law leans, and impose the sentence, if any, required by those same laws. There is no
delegation of powers to construct legislation with nearly Divine authority. All non-Divine
262

Based on factorial induction theory; see my work Future Logic, again.

These two sentences, of course (being from Deuteronomy), are spoken by Moses. Our
basic premise is that he utters them with full authority from God, as a mere mouthpiece, rather than
as the very first Rabbi. Another viewpoint entirely, is to regard Deut. as the first Rabbinic work, i.e.
the first transcription of oral law. (Indeed, reading this work, I imagine Moses, now the aging leader
of a well-established new order, sitting in his tent, dictating as they occur to him words of wisdom to
his personal secretary. The image is suggested by the casual style, the digressions, the repetitions,
the scattered subject-matter....) In any case, it could be countered that 'the word' Moses refers to,
which may not be modified, includes not only the written law, but also the oral law. However, how
can adherence to unwritten law be ensured? What, in such case, would addition or subtraction
constitute? How would the boundaries be defined?
264
Lewittes (p. 90), with reference to these two passages of Deut., comments: "Nevertheless,
the masters of Jewish Law, in particular the Sages of the Talmud, did not hesitate to add new
legislation to the corpus of Jewish Law. They interpreted the Biblical injunction quoted above to
apply to each mitzvah in itself; i.e. not to add to a mitzvah a feature not prescribed for it by the
Torah.... Furthermore, it was not considered a violation of this injunction if the additional legislation
was clearly denoted as Rabbinic and not Biblical in origin." However, that explanation does not
sincerely solve the problem; many laws in fact fall outside its scope one way or the other. It is just a
smoke-screen: if we consider the final legislation point by point, we undeniably find many additions
and subtractions.
263

190

JUDAIC LOGIC

legislation is subject to natural ethics or human convention, and thus possibly open to
variation under appropriate circumstances.
In any case, the secret code rationale is very fragile. It was intended, remember,
as a last resort explanation of the illogic of the Midot (as above exposed). But this only
holds together at best temporarily; since, as of the moment the code is broken and ceases to
be secret, as done in this volume, the whole argument falls apart. One can, only so long as
a mystery remains, argue that God wrote the Torah down differently than He intended it to
be read, giving exclusively to Moses and his successors (the Rabbis) a codebook (the
Midot) to translate His intentions. But, once the implied equations are made transparent
and accessible to all, the idea that God expresses Himself in such uselessly tortuous ways
becomes ridiculous.
All esoteric claims are equally vain in the long run. Thus, similarly: the Oral Law as a
whole stops to be a special privilege as soon as it is written down (as in Mishnah and all subsequent
Halakhic works), and so one may well wonder why it was not handed down to us in writing to start
with.

It is thus easy to suppose that, from the first appearance of the midot (meaning near
Talmudic times), they were simply the Jewish equivalent of Sophist argumentation265,
products of the logical incompetence and intellectual dishonesty of the speakers, and of the
relative ignorance and gullibility of their listeners. The fact is that the artificial aspects of
Rabbinic hermeneutics give enough of an illusion of being complex logical arguments, to
bamboozle into intellectual submission, anyone who feels unselfconfident in his or her
logical abilities and/or who for emotional reasons is all too willing to be persuaded. The
secret code rationale plays only a supporting role, as eventual backup in debates with
philosophers. In everyday practice, Rabbinic hermeneutics work, i.e. they are
convincing, because the defense against them demands a logical lucidity and expertise
most people lack (be they Rabbis or laypersons).
The power of persuasion of the Midot was, of course, greater in the past than it is today;
though some people, even educated people, continue to be moved by them. One non-negligible
reason for the continuing credibility, is the desire of Jews to hook up with the genuine, ages-old
tradition of Judaism. They are not looking for absolute truth; they are looking for roots and wish to
belong. They are willing to force their minds into the unnatural thought-processes of the Rabbis,
because they regard their own current thought processes as equally artificially induced, by modern
society and its media. But the pursuit of happiness must not be confused with that of truth.

2.

Artificial Blocks to Natural Development of the Law.

The existence of an oral legal tradition is suggested within the (written) Torah in
various passages, already mentioned. It is perfectly reasonable, as the story in Ex. 18:13-26
makes clear: following the advice of Yitro, an overburdened Moshe appointed judges to
apply (and therefore to some extent interpret) the law in his place, reserving for himself
only the most difficult cases. Effectively, Moshe became a theoretician, one in
communication with God, and left most of the practical work to others. This would have
had to be done sooner or later, to ensure the perpetuation of the new legal system after his
265

times.

Historically, we should perhaps rather make a comparison to the Stoic preachers of Roman

THE SINAI CONNECTION

191

decease. With the departure of Moshe, and eventually the disappearance of prophecy, the
reference to Divine decision in difficult cases stopped, and the law could only develop with
reference to pre-established parameters.
But while the above general proposition is justified and reasonable, it does not
automatically follow that every particular claim of tradition is equally well-supported.
Concentrating more specifically on the hermeneutic principles, it seems very unlikely that
they were entirely transmitted from Sinai. The suggestion that the game rules of Talmudic
discourse were known all along is especially difficult to swallow. What is empirically
evident, rather, in Mishnah and Gemara (and thereafter), is the gradual development of
game rules, by trial and error, through disputes and compromises between the players. We
encounter a lot of evidence to that effect throughout the present work.
It is worth quoting the Jewish Encyclopedia in this regard: The Talmud itself gives no
information concerning the origin of the middot, although the Gaonim regarded them as
Sinaitic...This can only be correct if the expression [Halakhah leMoshe miSinai] means nothing
more than very old, as in the case of many Talmudic passages266. It is decidedly erroneous,
however, to take this expression literally and to consider the middot as traditional from the time of
Moses on Sinai.

At first glance, the proposed rules would seem quite conceivably to be of Mosaic
origin, in some form or other. But when we look more closely at them and see:
that there are disputes concerning their validity and conflicting lists are offered,
that the lists are incomplete and imperfectly organized,
and most importantly that there are disagreements in the interpretations of the
individual principles themselves,
and many exceptions and extensions are proposed for them...
- we must be extremely careful, especially since at issue are methodological guidelines for
interpreting the Divine law. If (or to the extent that) these guidelines are at all in doubt,
then all work done with them becomes open to doubt, too.
Ethical laws, whether relating to religious ritual, personal and social morality, or
juridical and political matters, can logically be optional or conventional, and thus have
seventy facets, in the sense that there may be many means which achieve the same goal
equally well, and the factor of Rabbinic decision may reflect the necessity in such contexts
of a common and uniform choice, a consensus. With regard to hermeneutics, it is
conceivable that God wrote the Torah is such ways that a number of intellectual
connections are possible from one batch of data, each to one of the optional ethical laws;
and that the limitations set by tradition to such thought-processes represent the
conventional aspect of religious law and logic. However, this measure of leeway and
control in interpretation is only a small fraction of the world of exegesis, which remains
bound by a great many absolute rules of logic.
In relation to the rules of natural logic there are no ifs and buts. Rabbis cannot
choose to ignore such rules, no more than they can choose to follow them; they are
universal truths, irrefragable realities, for which no seventy facets hypothesis can be
postulated. Rabbinic logic cannot permit what natural logic forbids, nor exempt from
266

It is interesting to note that the expression Halakhah leMoshe miSinai is acknowledged by

no less an authority than the Rosh to be not always literally true, according to Lewittes p. 142.

192

JUDAIC LOGIC

what it demands. These remarks, of course, principally concern deductive logic; with
regard to inductive logic, or epagogic, preemptive rulings inhibiting directions of thought
which might otherwise eventually be taken are not totally excluded. The Rabbis might
conceivably, as just implied, with reference to Torah text, forbid or make imperative an
interpretative process which is contingent according to the science of logic. They would
have to claim Divine sanction, of course - something difficult to prove or disprove, and
something which anyone else could just as well eventually claim, if claims are blindly
accepted. But in any case, their credibility depends on respect for the objective boundaries
set by natural logic.
Nevertheless, the Rabbis have made efforts to both reserve and regulate use of the
hermeneutic principles, occasionally in ways which seem unjustified or unjustifiable. Hints
of this tendency may be found in the Talmud267, but it has developed greatly in postTalmudic literature. We quote Bergman268, first with reference to Biblical interpretation
(for Halakhic purposes): we are no longer empowered to interpret the Written Torah
using any of the thirteen rules of exegesis (Maharik Shoresh 139; Raah to Ketubos cited
in Yad Malachi 144); and similarly, with reference to interpretation of the Talmud, giving
Rashi on Shabbat 132a as his reference: the Oral Law cannot be interpreted with any
of the thirteen hermeneutic rules.
The first of these sentences reserves use of the hermeneutic principles for the
interpretation of Scripture to the Sages of the Talmud exclusively; the second sentence
prevents their use for the interpretation of Talmudic and other texts by anyone. Logically,
both sentences presume that such legislation is objectively possible, as if the modes of
thought involved have no formal necessity! But the truth is that no human can legislate
laws of logic out of existence, and exegesis is largely composed of such natural laws. So,
certainly, at least the natural aspects of exegesis are beyond the jurisdiction of Rabbis to
reserve; no Divine authority can be claimed by them: the proof that God wanted the laws
of logic (like those of mathematics, physics, etc.) is that He created them as part of nature.
As to the artificial aspects, they are welcome to them; that is, since they are illogical, the
less they are used by anyone, the better.
What is interesting, in these general limits, and more specific equivalents, is that
the authorities quoted by Bergman are post-Talmudic, and furthermore that he repeatedly
reports controversies among them with regard to the truth, or precise formulation of, such
limiting principles269.
To obtain a proper perspective on the issue of tradition, we must always keep in mind the
various time spans involved. Fundamentalist students of Jewish law tend to ignore the time factor,
and behave in their thinking as if all the players were contemporaries. Effectively, they claim to
know with certainty that during a first span of over a millennium, there was perfect oral transmission
267

We may as an example point to the sentence ain adam din gezerah shavah meatsmo,
translated by J.E. as "no one may draw a conclusion from analogy upon his own authority" with
reference to Pes. 66a and Niddah 19b. J.E. explains (p. 32) that this canon was formulated to
prevent contradictions emerging from unrestricted use of gezerah shavah argument, and suggests
that the decision on use in each case was not (as Rashi claimed) necessarily based on Sinai
tradition, but on Rabbinic consensus. I would suggest that the purpose of this canon was not
immutability, nor even collective assent, but to ensure that an individual Rabbi proposing a gezerah
shavah did so with consideration for the full context of knowledge (an inexpert individual could
easily ignore or forget relevant data); the collective assent and immutability would be
consequences of such proper inductive thinking, which convinces everyone for all time.
268
All quotations from Bergman, here, are from ch. 13 (pp. 120-156).
269
Bergman, needless to say, draws no negative conclusions from these or any other issues;
all criticism expressed here is the author's own.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

193

of the Sinai tradition without loss or distortion of data and without innovations. Then, suddenly
more endangered270 than ever before, during half a millennium, it was all (or almost all) put into
writing; and those who performed the job had special exegetic powers and rights, which passed
away with them. Finally, hundreds and hundreds of years later, we find authorities writing down
oral traditions which, apparently, no-one in the interim (even though there was a well-developed
culture of written law since the Talmud) had found worthy of mention. This transmission scenario,
proposed by the Rabbis, is not credible.

It should be noticed that there is another inherent logical difficulty in the proposed
limit on inference from the Written Torah. Mishnaic discussions started about 1200 years
after the Sinai Revelation; the Talmud as a whole was completed some 600 years later; the
classical commentators were active several hundred years after that. It is difficult to
conceive that hermeneutic principles were delivered at Sinai with a built-in self-destruct
clause, permitting Rabbinic authorities living specifically between 1200 and 1800 years
later to use certain methods of inference, and forbidding those living after that period from
using them. How would such a clause have been formulated? Did Moses say: In about
1800 years, after some 600 years of writing down of the Oral Torah, when the Talmud is
closed, you will no longer be allowed to infer law from the Written Torah? There is no
evidence of such a tradition; it is all too obvious that the limitation was a non-Traditional
phenomenon, merely the work of certain rigid-minded individuals.
With regard to the proposed limit on inference from the Oral Law, we might try to
justify it by saying that whereas the Written Torah is a Divinely-dictated document, the
Oral Torah (written down as the Talmud) is a human product271. But, upon reflection, such
an argument has its difficulties, too. If the Oral Torah was, as per orthodox claims, also
Divinely given, then the Talmud should be a virtually verbatim transcript of it and could
assumably also be used as a source of inference using similar processes. To deny such
perfection to the Talmud would be to put in doubt its continuity with the Sinaitic oral
tradition! And even if it is admitted that not all the laws are Divinely given, it is claimed
that they are, if only indirectly, Divinely sanctioned; in such case, too, inference should be
possible.
It should, in any case, be noted that the Rabbis of the Talmud, in discussing each
others theses, and their successors, in discussing the Talmud and each others theses, do in
fact use at least the natural aspects of the hermeneutic principles. When a Rabbi, for
instances, as often happens, constructs a qal vachomer argument from anothers
statements, or understands anothers thesis as davqa, or tries to resolve a conflict between
two Rabbinic theses, he is undeniably using exegetic methods. It cannot therefore be
270

Danger is implied by the persecution of those who remember the oral tradition; they may all
be killed off and the tradition thus be forgotten. If any part of an oral tradition is known to have been
forgotten, then surely all the remaining parts of it become suspect, for the missing parts may be
crucial in making such or such inference, and without them the entire law becomes actually or
possibly distorted - permitting the forbidden, forbidding the permitted, and so forth. For this reason,
it cannot be suggested that some parts of our tradition were actually lost (as, I seem to recall, some
passages of the Talmud suggest).
271
Funnily enough, some Rabbis seem to consider the Divine as more accidental, less
purposeful, than the human, judging by a comment in Bergman, p. 135, according to which: "R'
Betzalel Ranshburg... quoting Ravan, maintains that R' Yehudah interpreted semuchim only in
Deuteronomy. This is because the other four books of the Pentateuch were dictated by the
Almighty and were not recorded in any particular order, whereas Moses arranged the sections of
Deuteronomy in a certain sequence for the purpose of interpreting them." It seems to me that such
a position, puts in doubt the R. Akiba principle that the order of things in the Torah is intentional, on
which principle many contextual inferences are made, and furthermore, and more importantly, it
puts in doubt the Divinity of the laws found in Deuteronomy but not in the preceding four books.

194

JUDAIC LOGIC

claimed that the theoretical interdiction of such methods in oral law is obeyed by the
authorities in practice. The interdiction is obviously intended specifically for laypersons, to
prevent them from putting Rabbinic decisions in question.
The truth of the matter, then, is that the natural thought-processes, through which
we all understand any documentary or oral legal expos, cannot be avoided or controlled,
whether in the case of Torah or Talmud or later Rabbinic law. The proposed restrictions
can only conceivably concern additional, artificial clauses: but, as we have just argued,
such clauses, whether assumed to be Divinely inspired or the inventions of humans, can
hardly be formulated with a time limit, anyway.
How such artificial clauses have in fact developed over time is suggested in the Jewish
Encyclopedia article on Talmud hermeneutics. It would seem that, for example, the Rabbis might
initially make a gezerah shavah between two instances of a term, without taking into consideration
other manifestations of the same term in the Torah. Later, in order to inhibit the same inference from
being extended to such other cases, without however abandoning the initial inference, an artificial
rule had to be constructed, individually designating as traditionally-accepted the case(s) to which
such inference was to be limited.
A natural approach would have required either extending the same inference to all other
cases, or at least finding for the desired case some inner distinction justifying its special treatment,
or abandoning the initial inference. But the Rabbis, aware of the inconsistencies likely to arise from
free extension, and not finding any convincing distinguishing character in the accepted cases, and
ideologically reluctant to revise previous judgments, opted for institution of an arbitrary rule,
defining allowable cases indicatively (i.e. merely saying this, but not that). This is effectively an
attempt to rig exegetic methods, so they arrive at preferred results. To err is human and natural; but
to institutionalize error is to lie.

Two broader assumptions should be mentioned in this context: that (i) the Torah
laws were intended by God as eternal, and that (ii) the laws derived from the Torah by
the religious authorities are immutable272. These canons have, of course, been of great
significance to the Jewish law system, removing from it all temporal considerations, all
possibility of change. They did not, however, need to be brought up repeatedly in legal
debates, being so universally accepted. Various remarks may be made concerning them.
The first canon seems very reasonable, at first sight. But, upon reflection, it stems
from an excessive rationalism; for it is not inconceivable that God intended certain laws
with reference to specific socio-cultural contexts, allowing for their evolution with
historical change. Indeed, the Torah seems to allow for change in Gods legislation
(compare before and after the Deluge, and before and after Sinai); also, some Divine
instructions were punctual (for instance, many relating to the first Passover). This only
means that Divine decrees are permanent until, if ever, God Himself repeals, replaces or
modifies them. Needless to say, to acknowledge this as a possibility, is not to recognize
every specific claim that this in fact occurred, such as the Christian and Moslem claims.
Furthermore, there are instances where Torah law was temporarily suspended,
which the religious authorities concede (for instance, the prophet Eliahus animal sacrifice
on Mt.-Carmel, against the law which legitimates only the Temple for such rituals).
Moreover, the religious authorities have occasionally adapted the law, more constantly, to
changed historical conditions (for instances, the laws relating to release from debts and to
payment of interest). They argued that the adaptations were foreseen by the original law, in
272

Note that I refer here to "laws derived from the Torah by the Rabbis" in a broad sense,
including any legislation not explicitly obvious in the Torah. The tradition calls "Rabbinic law" only a
small segment of the Halakhah, namely taqanot (if I remember rightly); but I am including here all
oral traditions and interpretations.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

195

the way of loopholes in it; but we must regard the matter phenomenologically: there was
effective change in the accepted legal mores. Also, some commentators have seemingly
suggested the relativism of some laws (I am thinking of Maimonides, who suggested that
animal sacrifice was pass).
The second canon seemed to the Rabbis to be a natural extension of the first. Given
the Rabbis claim of Divinely delegated authority (based on certain statements in the
Torah, which we have seen); their belief that God granted many of them special powers of
insight (prophecy, the holy spirit, great wisdom); as well as their great trust in their powers
of reasoning, due to the assumption that their inferences were overwhelmingly deductive,
rather than inductive - it was inevitable that they would regard the whole Halakhah (that is,
all interpretations of the Torah developed collectively over time by the Rabbis) as
immutable once established. If Torah statements were eternal, and the inferences therefrom
were technically faultless operations, then, surely (they thought), the results they obtained
must be incontrovertible and final.
However (as often demonstrated in the present work) though Rabbinic reasoning
was frequently powerful, it was neither omniscient nor infallible. The second canon does
not logically follow from the first. Even if we grant the full intention of the first, we need
not automatically grant the full intention of the second. Seeing that it concerns humans, all
we can say with surety is that where their arguments are logically tenable and convincing,
and so long as they remain so, in changing objective circumstances and knowledge
context, we must admit them. But if good reason is found, within the letter and spirit of
Torah law, changes in derivative law ought to be admitted by the Rabbis. It is absurd,
contrary to reason, to lock the door and throw away the key.
In any case, let us note that, in its extension to the whole Halakhah, the concept of
immutability has introduced great technical complications in the process of legislation. I refer to the
travail of orthodoxy, the ever-narrowing room for maneuver of legislators as the volume of
established commentary grows. This phenomenon (and its devastating effects on the people to
whom the law is addressed) is not peculiar to the Jewish religion: a similar rigidity may be observed
in many periods and sects of the Christian and Moslem religions. But we may contrast it to secular
law within a democracy (the tat de droit). In the latter law-systems273, even constitutional laws may
be changed, according to the surrounding conditions and current understanding of things.
Furthermore, these display certain characteristics absent or less prominent in the former; for
instances, constitutional law overrides divergent ordinary legislation, newer laws or provisions may
override divergent older laws or provisions which were not explicitly repealed. As a consequence,
the law can evolve (sometimes, admittedly, in sorry ways; but often, surely, for the good).

The Rabbinic restrictions on use of the hermeneutic rules (to certain persons, in
certain domains) do not affect the actual operation of these rules where the Rabbis allow
them to be used. On the other hand, there are general principles which affect exegesis in
action, causing many of the rules to produce results they would not otherwise produce. I
am thinking especially of the principle of economy, as it might be called, which is
attributed to R. Akiba, and which might be stated, broadly-speaking, as: in the Torah, no
choice or placement of word(s) is accidental and no repetition of word(s) is
273

The contrasts to secular law made here are not my own insights. I found them in Abitbol, in
his discussion of the 13th midah. He also mentions that conflicts between divergent laws may be
resolved with reference to widely admitted general principles. Note that we may regard Torah law
as having constitutional status, and Rabbinic derivations of law as equivalent to ordinary legislation,
with the newer superseding the older because it has taken it into account. However, the contrast
remains, despite such analogies, because we cannot in principle change Torah law, nor in practice
change Rabbinic derivations.

196

JUDAIC LOGIC

superfluous274. This viewpoint derives from a rationalistic thought that God would not, in
so important a document as the Torah, His main verbal link with humanity, misuse,
misplace, or waste a single word, phrase or sentence.
Note, however, that the principle of economy was somewhat mitigated by a
principle that there is no early and late in the Torah (ain muqdam umeuchar
baTorah275), which allowed commentators to occasionally chronologically reorder events
narrated in the Torah. However, this has had a lesser effect, if any, on Halakhah, since the
sequence in which laws were given does not affect their contents or relative strength.
Incidentally, while there is no doubt that the principle of economy has been used by the
Rabbis with reference to a great many of the words and word-placements, it has never so far as I
know been confirmed with reference to all of them. No one seems to have made a systematic
research in all possible sources, to see if, indeed, every item in the Torah subsumed by this principle
has been accounted for by the Rabbis, even conjecturally; or to count the proportion accounted for.

In this deterministic perspective, there are inferences to be drawn from every verbal
peculiarity in the Torah; and as we have seen it had a strong effect on Rabbinic exegesis,
often causing very far-out inferences to be made. It must be stressed that, as a theoretical
position, this was not universally accepted; R. Ishmael favoured a more poetic approach,
saying that the Torah speaks in the language of men (Sifre on Num. 112, quoted by
J.E.). It should be noted, however, that (as we have seen) in actual practice, R. Ishmael
very often tacitly adhered to the same mode of thought as R. Akiba. One might reflect that
it is very hard for human beings to avoid rationalism, even when they may try to!
If the principle of economy has been contested by high authorities of Mishnaic
times, it surely cannot be claimed to be absolute, Divinely given and traditionally
irreproachable. Even if it was in practice used more often than ignored, it must at best be
viewed as an ex post facto summary, a heuristic principle, rather than as a guiding,
hermeneutic principle. A serious problem with it, is the difficulty of defining it precisely,
in a way which ensures that it operates in formally predictable ways. It cannot be expressed
as a hard and fast rule, echoing the law of identity, that the Torah means what it says, for
a literal and rigid interpretation of this document leads to contradictions (and, anyhow, the
Rabbis do not always favour literal interpretation, as we have seen).
Furthermore, the language of men hypothesis, which conceives a poetic license
for God, according to which His choice of words may vary, and He may repeat words, and
He may use words in surprising positions, without thereby necessarily intending to affect
the law - is not unreasonable. Such liberties of style do not have to signify a lack of order
in Gods thinking, but could be assigned to other motives, like beauty, emphasis and
narrative requirements, reflecting also the intellectual limits and emotional needs of the
human addressees of the Divine message. Therefore, the economy principle is not the only
logically acceptable position.
The truth is, I daresay, somewhere in between functionalism and art. If we
understand R. Ishmaels postulate as noncommittal, i.e. as merely a denial of R. Akibas
hard and fast rule, then we need not seek further for a golden mean: it is it. We can then
say that the correct approach, in view of the lack of consensus, on so basic an issue, among
top level carriers of tradition, and in view of the technical difficulty of defining the
274

A fuller statement of this principle would also attach significance to: a pleonasm (i.e. a
grammatically redundant word); the absence of a word present in a similar statement elsewhere; a
redundant phrase or sentence; an extra or missing letter in a word.
275
Pes. 6b, quoted by Enc. Jud. p. 371.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

197

principle of economy in such a way that it can be applied without controversy, is to rely on
natural, generic logic. That is, to judge each situation on its merits, using the whole palette
of inductive and deductive procedures logic makes available to us, flexibly and
unassumingly.
It may seem paradoxical that while, in their theoretical attitudes, R. Akiba seems more
rationalistic and R. Ishmael more poetic - in their practice of exegesis, as pointed out by Enc. Jud.,
the formers method is less confined, more logically permissive, the latters more restrictive,
more logically demanding. As I see it, R. Akiba uses the seemingly strict economy principle as an
excuse for almost any flights of fancy; whereas R. Ishmaels language-of-men hypothesis and
resultant caution in action are evidence of a deeper empiricism and rationalism.

We must, in any case, stress that a distinction must be drawn between the general
principles formulated by R. Akiba and R. Ishmael, and the particular inferences claimed to
have been made on these bases (by these same Rabbis or others). Just because someone
claims that in performing a certain inference they are applying this or that accepted
principle, does not certify that the principle was indeed the logical basis of the inference.
There is a big difference between justification and rationalization. There might be a loose,
analogical relation between the pretexted principle and the alleged application, yet not in
fact be a strict logical relation. Blah-blah is often a smoke-screen.
Another canon, in the same rationalistic vein, that affected exegesis was that each
unit of information in the Torah can only serve for one inference. It must be stressed
that this notion is very peculiar to Judaic logic. Generic logic has no such restriction: a
premise can be used repeatedly, in any number of arguments, without being thereby
disqualified. Moreover, a premise should be re-used as often as possible, wherever its
terms or theses make such use possible, to ensure its consistency and integration with the
whole body of ones knowledge. I imagine that the Rabbis idea was conceived as a
corollary of the principle of economy, a sort of extension from the statics to the dynamics
of Torah study. But I see no justification for it whatsoever, and to repeat it has no basis in
formal logic.276
Yet another restrictive canon of this sort, proposed by R. Ishmael, was that the
hermeneutic principles maynt constitute chains of arguments (sorites), such that the
conclusion of one is used as a premise of the next. This canon was not accepted by R.
Akiba, who considered that one may learn from a matter itself derived from Scripture
(lamed min halamed).277 As may be expected, I would in this case favour R. Ishmaels
restriction, with respect to the artificial outcomes of the hermeneutic principles; though
defend R. Akibas position, with respect to the natural outcomes of exegesis. The artificial
parts are to be avoided as much as possible; the natural logic parts cannot be interdicted.

276
In fact, the Rabbis do, if only implicitly, re-use premises. Examples may be found in our
analysis of "kol davar shehayah bikhlal" exegesis, where each of the four premises (major, minor,
subjectal and predicatal) is combined with the remaining three to elicit information and check for
consistency.
277
See Enc. Jud. p. 371, which refers to Zev. 57a. Bergman also mentions R. Ishmael's
principle (though not R. Akiba's), though he seems to limit it to laws concerning the holy offerings;
but he adds that "several distinctions may be made" in this regard and refers us to Zev. 50b. (Note
incidentally that if R. Ishmael's position here is accepted, so that all the premises of hermeneutic
arguments must be obtained directly from within the text itself, it follows a-fortiori that his 13th rule
cannot be interpreted as allowing the resolution of conflicts to come from outside Scripture!)

198

JUDAIC LOGIC

3.

How Tradition Keeps Growing.

In the pursuit of objective truth in religious matters, or as near to it as we can get, it

is important, as we have seen, to first of all control ones mental attitudes, and avoiding all
psychological and social pressures, concentrate on the facts and logic of the case at hand.
Additionally, one should be aware of various pitfalls, some of which may be found in all
domains and some of which are more likely to be found in the particular domain of
religious thought.
We realize, today, the extent to which imagination plays a role in scientific thought.
Mach, Einstein are among those who have stressed this fact. Knowledge depends on
hypothesis-building and verification. To build hypotheses means to imagine new ideas, by
means of the images and echoes of past experiences and rational insights, whose concrete
and abstract elements are combined and reshuffled in ways never before tried. Our
imaginations are variously extended and limited. The same person, under different
conditions, and especially in different knowledge-contexts, has varying facilities and
constraints of imagination. Different persons, coexisting in a historical epoch and culture,
have different facilities and constraints; likewise, and all the more so, persons in different
times or milieux.
All this is as true in mathematics as in physics or biology: our ability to conceive of
explanations or solutions always depends on our imaginativeness, which is a function of
the faculty of imagination as such (the factors in our brain which make possible the
projection of novel structures and permutations), as well as of our perceptiveness, the
intelligence of our insights and our acquired context of information (which together
provide the elements manipulated by the imagination). Effort and perseverance play a role,
too, of course. If this is true in the exact sciences, it is all the more so in disciplines like
history, where facts are much harder to come by, being relatively unique and nonreproducible, and the share of postulates is consequently much greater. Likewise, as we
shall presently show in more detail, religious thought depends on the imaginativeness of
those who engage in it.
If we look at religion, not only the Jewish religion but also the other major
religions, we see certain recurring patterns of behavior. One of the most common ways to
legitimatize new propositions in a religion is to project it into the past; to claim it has
always been there, to attribute it to some authoritative person(s), to refer its transmission
into the present to subterranean (oral, esoteric) channels. This may be called the argument
by anachronism. To repeat, because it is important to realize it, such ways are not peculiar
to Judaism, but common to all the major religions. Within Jewish culture, many works
were written in Biblical style and under antique pseudonyms during the pre-Talmudic
centuries, which the Talmud sages themselves nonetheless rejected for various reasons.
Some people claim the book of Daniel to be such a later work, which the Rabbis however
kept in the canon. More recently, a classical example is the Zohar278.
278

According to historians, including Gershom Scholem, this work was written mainly by
Moses de Lon (13th cent., Spain), who pseudoepigraphically attributed it mainly to R. Shimon Bar
Yochai (2nd cent., Holy Land). Although the work suddenly appeared on the stage of history, many
Jews were soon convinced of its authenticity, and many still are today. So much so, that it has even
affected Halakhah in two or three instances. For example, according to what I was taught, the
exemption from wearing tefillin (phylacteries) during the intermediate weekdays of Pessach and
Succoth is based entirely on the authority of the Zohar.

THE SINAI CONNECTION

199

Some people, naturally, question the antiquity of the Torah itself (i.e. the Five
Books of Moses), suspecting it to be a cumulative work of many authors and editors spread
over several later centuries, which was attributed by them to an ancient, perhaps merely
legendary, character called Moses. Some people claim to have textual indices to that effect
(I have not studied these claims). That, of course, is a very radical approach. But even
granting, in its main lines, the traditional presumptions regarding the Torah itself, and later
books of the Bible (the Nakh), it is important to realize that the argument by anachronism
is repeatedly and very frequently, implicitly if not explicitly, used in the Talmud and
thereafter. The trouble with this argument, is that it is usually as difficult to disprove as to
prove. There is usually an iota of conceivability, however much the evidence or lack of
evidence militates against the notion concerned.
The Torah period of Jewish history is virtually inaccessible, it seems, to historians (though,
of course, quite a bit is known about surrounding cultures). The period of Jewish settlement (Judges,
Kings) to the First Exile and Return (Ezra), is more accessible, thanks to the Nakh itself and
archeological discoveries (few of them documentary) in the Holy Land and beyond. The period of
the Second Temple, to the beginnings of the Mishnah, is, surprisingly, a relatively dark age of
Jewish history with regard to documentary material; perhaps little was written and much was
destroyed. Then comes a strong Rabbinic movement, starting with the Mishnah and growing with
the Gemara; a vocal movement, full of advocacies and certainties, with its peculiar conventions and
methods. But even in this Talmudic phase, it is relatively difficult to firmly establish the historicity,
or myth, of certain claims.

How, then, can anachronism be checked and countered? The answer is to refer
empirically to more recent Rabbinic discussions. As historical evidence increases, the
probability of error in our evaluations of anachronistic claims decreases. It is easy to invent
fairy tales (very unlikely stories) when the data in question is well out of reach; but
manipulatory constructs become unacceptable, when the data is available, or when it ought
to be but is not available. If we analyze how contemporary or relatively modern Rabbis
develop Judaism, we can safely extrapolate our findings to their predecessors. Here, the
processes involved in fact are made evident:
1. A legal problem arises, not explicitly foreseen by previous religious authorities (from
Torah through Talmud and beyond). If the issue concerned had been explicitly foreseen,
or even could easily be deduced from available law, there would be no discussion about
it today. Our concern here is, by definition, with such cases: for example, the use of
electrical equipment on the Sabbath279.
2. It cannot be said that the present Rabbis already know the answer, through some sort of
oral or written transmission, since they are all evidently looking for it, and debating
possible answers among themselves. Note well the logical impossibility of anachronistic
claims nowadays: in the Talmud, oral transmission could be claimed, knowingly or by
supposition, and there was little possibility of verification280, but since then, the oral

279

Current electricity was virtually unknown to us until the end of the 18th cent., and the
discoveries by L. Galvani in 1796 and A. Volta in 1800.
280
A Rabbi could honestly claim having received some belief from his teacher; but who can
say whether what his teacher taught him was in turn received from his teacher, or was a personal
insight? The intermediate teacher may have simply omitted to specify the fact either way, and his
successor presumed it was an old tradition! The degree of veneration in which ancients held their
teachers has to be taken into consideration. Multiply this uncertainty by the number of generations
from Sinai to Talmud, and it grows exponentially.

200

3.

4.

5.

6.

JUDAIC LOGIC

law has in fact become more and more exclusively written, and therefore subject to
objective scrutiny.
For each Rabbi addressing the problem, the process of answering is the same: bound by
his well-absorbed Jewish cultural standards and inhibitions, and informed by his broad
knowledge of official Jewish methodology and law, and some knowledge of ambient
living conditions and science, and aided by his personal level of intelligence
(penetration and breadth of insight, intellectual rigour) and imaginativeness, he
proposes a possible solution (or a number of them) for consideration by his peers, and
a dialectic is put in motion. This is very normal inductive procedure, practiced in all
fields.
The proposed solutions to a problem made by the various Rabbis involved, are of course
made in the framework of past Jewish law, as much as possible with reference to
precedents and analogies found in the literature. Nevertheless, since neither question nor
answer were previously known and dealt with, we have to rely on the possibilities
which occur in the minds of the people concerned. Granting that these people have
perfect credentials, with regard to piety and knowledge of Jewish law, there still remains
the issue, for each one, of his acquaintance with secular knowledge to date and his
honesty about it, and his intelligence and imaginativeness. This is the human element in
decision-making, in Jewish law as everywhere else, and there is no escaping it. Even if
these people are in fact saints, the rest of us are still required to consider it.
Now, the next step is in fact the most interesting. The solution proposed by an authority
may be universally accepted, or it may be accepted by some of his colleagues and
refused by others. It may end up integrally or in modified form in the Halakhah - or it
may even be totally excluded from the Halakhic domain in question. But, being the
suggestion of a respected Rabbi, it remains potent in Jewish culture, and several
centuries later it may suddenly be revived, in relation to a very different issue, by virtue
of some possible analogy. The fact that it was said by an authority (i.e. someone who
won other legal debates) and a long time ago, gives that proposal of his the status of
being a tradition.
This status, irrespective of the fact that the idea had a human origin, and that its
originator was functioning on a more limited scientific database and may even not have
won the debate of the time, is passed on to any subsequent ideas, in whatever other
contexts, which manage to claim some reliance on the tradition. Moreover, not only
does the old proposal become a springboard for new ideas, but it also sets up
boundaries for subsequent discussion. That is to say, subsequent discussions must take
that tradition into account, and remain somewhat consistent with it and not exclude it
absolutely. It becomes raw data, effectively, with all the potential for growth and
limitations implied.

This pattern of growth, which we have just depicted, is actual, observable fact.
Follow any Rabbinic debate and these elements should be evident to you. Tradition,
paradoxically, keeps growing. Even if much uncertainty surrounds Talmudic traditions,
whether or not they all came from Sinai - we can show with certainty that in more recent
times, new traditions are first formed by the faculty of imagination of some individual
and after some time acquire the status of icons. By extrapolation, it is reasonable to
suppose that similar processes occurred in less accessible historical time281.
281

The story of Moses sitting at the back of a R. Akiba class, and being surprised by the new
laws taught in his, Moses', name, show that the Talmudic Sages were already aware of this

THE SINAI CONNECTION

201

I personally find it hard to imagine that all the words on Jewish law spoken or written in the
past 3,300 years could have all been uttered first by one man, Moses, and from then on repeated
from generation to generation. Surely, no human being would have enough time in a lifetime to just
say all these words, let alone follow their meaning. Even if the first transmission from God to Moses
was miraculously fast, and miracles attended the transmission from Moses to other men; we must
still account for the subsequent stages of transmission. Furthermore, the powers of human memory
must be empirically considered: how much it can absorb in a certain amount of time, how much it
tends to forget over time, and also the possibilities and statistical probabilities of mistaken
remembering. It is very reasonable to assume that Moses transmitted some oral teachings besides
his written legacy; and conceivable that some of these teachings were transmitted through the
centuries; but how much and which of his oral teachings have reached us is moot.
It should be remembered that there are indications in the Bible itself that transmission of
the law was occasionally interrupted, the most touted of which is the story in 2 Kings 22:8-13 (and
its parallel in 2 Chronicles 34:14-21). It is there told that, during king Josiahs reign, the High Priest
Hilkiah found the book of Torah (sefer haTorah) in the Temple. The definite article the in this
statement signifies that a specific scroll of Torah was found. Some commentators suggest that this
was the original scroll, written by Moses; and they explain Josiahs alarm as due, not to his (and
everyone elses) total ignorance of the law at the time, but to the fact that the scroll found was
positioned at an unfavourable passage. Others, however, explain the the as reflecting Hilkiahs
knowledge that, though all other copies of the Torah had been destroyed in the preceding idolatrous
period, one last copy (even possibly the said original) had been hidden, and he had hoped to find it.
The first opinion, being less tortuous, sounds more credible to me. But the second is
conceivable in the context of data available. Note that further on the king is told that Hilkiah found
a book, which may either mean that, unlike Hilkiah, the speaker and the king were unaware of
loss of the original scroll; or, alternatively, be indicative of surprise and gladness that a scroll, any
scroll, was found, whereas they had assumed all scrolls lost. Thus, there is a logical possibility that
the Torah was, if not entirely forgotten by most people, largely ignored, for an extended period,
maybe some 70 years (during Manassehs reign, 55; Amons, 2; and the first 10 of Josiahs). If, as
some commentators suggest, the book in question was only Deuteronomy, that still represents
almost a third of the 613 commandments (200 of them, of which 77 positive and 123 negative).
If the written Torah was wholly or partly out of circulation for a long time, the oral law
must surely have suffered considerably. There was evidently not a complete black-out, since
loyalists like Hilkiah and Huldah the prophetess, and various cultural vestiges, remained; but gaps in
knowledge of the law may well have resulted.

The plurality of conflicting traditions tends to confirm the thesis that, even in
Talmudic times, new ideas were being variously developed or had only recently been
variously developed. But orthodox commentators, in the face of this plurality, have
advanced the comforting counter-thesis that God wished to stimulate discussion and leave
room for decision-making and so gave the Torah tradition seventy facets. Thus, the fact
of plurality in itself proves nothing either way. However, there are other indices that
conflicting schools of thought were a cultural development of Talmudic times: in the
earlier Tanakh literature, there is little hard evidence of similar legal disputes, and
moreover (as shown in the example of a-fortiori argument in the present work) there is no
evidence of a sufficiently developed logical language.

paradox (Menachot 29b; according to Lewittes, p. 57). By definition, tradition must be static: the
notion of a dynamic tradition is a contradiction in terms.

202

JUDAIC LOGIC

13. ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH.

Jewish tradition assigns various technical characteristics to the concept of mitzvah.

In this chapter, we will try to clarify some of them, and analyze their formal implications,
making comparisons to natural ethical logic.282

1.

Basic Properties.

The term mitzvah (pl. mitzvot) is usually translated as commandment(s). Mitzvot

asseh (dos) are positive commands or imperatives; mitzvot lo-taasseh (do-nots) are
negative commands or prohibitions. Strictly-speaking, this is not quite correct. Some of the
mitzvot are indeed imperatives or prohibitions, but some, whether directly or by
implication, are rather only permissions (i.e. negations of prohibitions) and/or exemptions
(i.e. negations of imperatives).
For examples: Deut. 23:25, when you come into your neighbours vineyard, you
may eat grapes (which refers to a labourer at work), is a case of direct permission; or
Exod. 13:13, and if you will not redeem it, you must behead it (which refers to a
firstborn donkey), is a conditional imperative, which by implication implies a permission.
In some cases, the imperative and permission do not have the same logical subject; thus, in
Lev. 19:10, the crop-owners obligation to leave gleanings for the poor, implies the right of
the poor to go into the field and take them.
But note that, in some cases, a statement which has the form of a permission, is
received rather with emphasis on an implicit imperative (for instance, Deut. 14:11, which
reads every clean bird, you may eat is taken to mean that one must examine a bird and
make sure that it is kosher before eating it; similarly with Lev. 11:2, 9, 21). Some passages
which might more naturally be understood as merely permissive, are seemingly interpreted
more extremely as imperatives (for instances, Deut. 15:3 or 23:21, which read from a
gentile, go ahead - exact repayment of loan, even in Shemitah year or take interest,
are interpreted by some as meaning you must do so, rather than as merely you may do
so; similarly, Deut. 17:14-15 is understood to mean that Israel not just may but must
(eventually) have a king.
So we have to interpret the term mitzvah/command, here, as including command
to allow and command to exempt, as well as command to obligate and command to
forbid. This sort of nested reiteration might raise formal problems, if taken too literally.
Rather, I think, the best thing is to understand the term command, for lack of another, as
having as well as its narrow sense of imperative, a broader sense which includes
prohibitions, permissions and exemptions, as well.
282

Kahan's Taryag Mitzvos is worth reading in this context, as an illustration of how mitzvot
are currently taught to laypersons. Many of the examples proposed here were drawn from that
work, though their analysis is my own.

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

203

One might argue that reiteration does reflect an aspect of the concept of mitzvah,
namely that even contingent ethical propositions, if true, are products of Gods will and
therefore imply a command. But then, a command to whom? Some might answer, to the
religious authorities, telling them to tell the lay people what they must, must not, may, may
not do. However, I do not think that Judaism wishes to be so extremely authoritarian; it
acknowledges a more direct relation between layperson and God.
Also, I do not think that we are logically forced to regard contingent ethical
propositions as expressions of Gods will; it is not inconceivable that God is simply open
to either course implied by such propositions. In other words, the totalitarian thesis, that
everything is regulated within a religious ethics, is not logically inevitable; it is quite
conceivable (though some people, with fanatical inclinations, would doubt it) that God
allows for (perhaps even rejoices at) some human spontaneity, so that humans have some
(however much or little) freedom of choice, not only in the sense of natural capacity, but
also in the sense of ethical liberty.
In more formal terms, the issue may be expressed as follows: in natural modality, a
proposition of the form X is capable of doing Y is usually associated with a proposition
of the form When X is in such and such a situation, he is forced to do Y, which expresses
the conditions under which the potentiality is necessarily actualized. One hypothesis
(known as determinism) is that such association is not only usual but universal; the
opposite hypotheses (positing spontaneity or freewill) are that there exists cases where a
potentiality does not imply a conditional necessary actualization.
Similarly, the issue totalitarianism versus partial liberty arises as follows in ethical
modality: a proposition of the form X is permitted to do Y may or may not presuppose a
proposition of the form When X is in such and such a situation, he is obligated to do Y the issue is not formally resolvable; either position, ethical determinism and ethical
indeterminism, is a hypothesis. Note in passing that the English language, by using passive
verbs like is permitted, already implies that liberty is endowed; but a more impartial
terminology would reflect more the inherent independence of liberty, its conceptual
primacy.283
The following are some of the terms found in Talmudic discussions referring to
mitzvot:

283

The simplest explanation of permissive and/or exemptive ethical propositions in the Torah,
is to suppose that God wanted to preempt us (or the Rabbis) from drawing a prohibitive or
imperative conclusion.

204

JUDAIC LOGIC

There are many other equivalent terms, needless to say; in Hebrew, such as tsarikh,
zakai, in English, such as prescribed, prohibited, allowed, and so forth (check out your
thesaurus for more). These concepts are normally understood by logicians as ethical
modalities - attributes of relations, conceptually similar to (indeed subsets of) necessity,
impossibility, possibility and unnecessity, but in the ethical field, implying some prior
standard(s) of value, ultimate norms - and having (among others) the following logical
characteristics:
(a) They are in principle obvertible, so that if, for subject X, the doing (in the
widest sense) of Y is an obligation, then not-Y is forbidden, and if Y is forbidden, then notY is an obligation; and likewise, if Y is permitted, then not-Y is an exemption , and if Y is
an exemption, then not-Y is permitted.
(b) They form a normal square of oppositions, so that obligation implies (but is
not implied by) permission, is contrary to prohibition, and contradictory to exemption; and
likewise, prohibition implies (but is not implied by) exemption, is contrary to obligation,
and contradictory to permission.
However, as already discussed in an earlier chapter, Talmudists would be likely,
more often than not, to interpret these concepts somewhat differently. For them, at least ab
initio, permission and exemption would be understood as davqa positions, and therefore as
implying each other, and being together contrary to both obligation and prohibition. In that
case, one may educe X may not-Y (as well as X may not not-Y) from X may Y; and
similarly X may Y (as well as X may not Y) from X may not-Y. In certain cases, the
preceding lav davqa interpretations might be preferred, if the davqa ones turned out to be
untenable for some reason.
Going further, a question arises as to whether the Hebrew expressions asseh and
lo-taasseh (do and do not do) are intended as general words, signifying any verbs, or
whether they signify more specifically volitional action and restraint from action,
respectively.
In the general sense, verbs are fully obvertible: does X implies does-not do notX, and does-not do X implies does not-X; this is the sense preferred by formal logic,
because of its simplicity. Whereas, in the more special sense, concerning human will, with
its psychological, physiological, environmental, social, political and spiritual concomitants,
which is the domain of interest of ethics, various nuances have to be taken into
consideration.
An action may refer to a thought (a purely mental event); to an emotion (a
psychosomatic expression of pleasure, pain or indifference, love, hatred, or noncommitment, in various configurations and degrees); or to a physically-manifest event,
with all its implications within the individual(s) concerned and all its consequences in the
surrounding natural and social context. In this sense, then, action refers to an act of the
human will, which may range from fully voluntary and conscious to very-nearly
involuntary and/or unconscious, but must in any case have some degree of freedom to be
subject to ethical legislation, under any system.
Note that, contrary to what one might expect, thoughts are often subject to
legislation: for though cognition is ultimately an objective event, the observer can often
choose the direction of his/her attention, the course of his/her research, and the price (i.e.
conditions) of his/her belief-attitudes. Similarly, emotions are in a sense passions, but the
value-judgments originally underlying them are often a relatively free choice, and a person
may often choose to suppress emotions, more or less control them or give them free rein,

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

205

and actions (of varying value) may then follow. Certainly, we find within Judaism laws
relating to belief (to believe in the Lord/Gods existence, oneness, sovereignty, not to
believe in other gods) and to love (to love the Lord/God, to love ones neighbour as
oneself, not to hate ones brother in ones heart).
Lastly, while it might be that an individual can have influence on his/her natural
and social surrounds directly through his/her thoughts and emotions (I mean, by telepathy),
in most cases, certainly, such influence can only take shape through the medium of
physical acts (be they words or sounds spoken or unspoken, facial expressions and
gestures, or pushing, pulling and other movements) of the individual.
Also to note: as far as religion is concerned, ethics concerns not only the impact of
individuals on their own body and mind (including soul), and on their physical and social
surrounds, but also their (alleged) effect on upper and lower spiritual worlds of mystical
significance. While some rituals are more or less explicable in immanent terms, many are
reputed or presumed to have transcendental purposes. But I will not make further remarks
on such relatively metaphysical topics.
My only interest being here to point out the differing senses of doing, and to
briefly demonstrate that once one goes beyond the simple, general sense, the issues become
rather complicated. For these reasons, formal logic usually concentrates on the broadest
sense of the verb to do, with which no essential distinction other than polarity exists
between positive and negative commands.
Where the more specific sense of human action is intended, we have to keep in
mind at least the following categories: doing and avoiding doing (both of which signify
some degree of volition and awareness), and absence of doing and absence of avoiding
doing (which merely negate the preceding two categories, without implying volition and
awareness and without excluding them). All this is obvious enough, and was (it seems to
me) clearly known to the Talmudists.
The following is a more technical presentation of the concepts under discussion:
For the most abstract forms, where do refers to any verb, positive or negative,
active or passive, whatsoever, (a) all imperatives with a zero or even number of negations
are equivalent, and (b) all those with an odd number of negations are equivalent, and these
two sets of forms are contrary to each other. This refers to the following forms (I use the
formulas thats good, thats bad, to express the black and white value-judgments
involved):
a) X must do Y = X mustnt do not-Y = X must not-do not-Y = X mustnt not-do
Y = if X does Y, thats good; if X does not do Y, thats bad.
b) X mustnt do Y = X must do not-Y = X mustnt not-do not-Y = X must not-do
Y = if X does not do Y, thats good; if X does Y, thats bad.
However, in contrast, if we interpret doing as meaning specifically willing,
obversions are not always feasible, and we obtain four variously opposed sets of two forms
(c through f, below), instead of two contrary sets of four forms (a, b, above).

206

JUDAIC LOGIC

c) X must will Y = X mustnt not-will Y = if X wills Y, thats good; if X does not

will Y, thats bad.
d) X mustnt will Y = X must not-will Y = if X does not will Y, thats good; if X
wills Y, thats bad.
e) X must will not-Y = X mustnt not-will not-Y = if X wills not-Y, thats good; if
X does not will not-Y, thats bad.
f) X mustnt will not-Y = X must not-will not-Y = if X does not will not-Y, thats
good; if X wills not-Y, thats bad.
About the oppositions between these forms. Note that, given X wills Y and X
wills not-Y are incompatible, whereas X does not will Y and X does not will not-Y
are compatible, it follows that X wills Y implies (but is not implied by) X does not will
not-Y, and that X wills not-Y implies (but is not implied by) X does not will Y.
Now, the forms (c) and (d) are contrary, since they disagree regarding whether X
wills Y is good (c) or bad (d), and likewise whether X does not will Y is good (d) or
bad (c). Similarly, for the forms (e) and (f). However, since X wills Y (good) found in
(c) implies X does not will not-Y (good) found in (f), and X does not will Y (bad)
found in (c) is implied by X wills not-Y (bad) found in (f), the forms (c) and (f) are
compatible, but neither implies the other. Similarly, for the forms (e) and (d).

2.

Complementary Factors.

When God tells us to do or not-do something, is He just concerned with that one
thing He has mentioned, or with a much larger, unstated context?
Perhaps just doing what one is told by God to do, is all that counts. Or perhaps this
bottom line is duly rewarded; but also, as one enriches the deed with better kavanah (pl.
kavanot), as defined below, the reward increases proportionately. Similarly, on the
negative side: there may be gradations in seriousness, ranging from a minimum for sin
through error (implying that one has a certain responsibility for ignorance or neglect), to a
maximum for intentional or willful sin (implying a certain rebellion). Or perhaps, more
extremely, the performance of a positive mitzvah or non-performance of a negative
mitzvah require an adequate kavanah (or, rather, a certain collection of kavanot), and does
not otherwise count at all.
Kavanah includes various factors:
(a) A certain degree of awareness of ones activity or inactivity; so that it is a
product of will, and not merely an automatic reaction (a reflex or habit or chance
occurrence). For example, while praying, being aware of the meaning (at least the plain
meaning, if not the deeper meanings) of the words one utters, would fall under this
heading.
(b) The proper motives: this concerns the causal background influencing the deed.
Included here are (i) more or less conscious goals, like gaining a place in the world-tocome, or earning earthly rewards, such as a wife and children, long life, health, knowledge,
success, riches, and so forth; and (ii) undeclared/unadmitted, subconscious or unconscious
goals, which constitute the relatively hidden psychological context, such as power-lust for

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

207

instance. Apparent motives are not necessarily true motives; here, complex needs for
introspection are implied.284
(c) The intention to thereby fulfill the mitzvah, as such, i.e. as a command from
God given through Moshe at Sinai. One may view this, though the ideal motive, as just a
necessary motive, a sine qua non, without having to be the only motive, exclusive of any
other. Or, more extremely, one may insist on obedience without selfish motive whatever,
purely lishma, for its own sake, or leshem Shamaim, for the sake of Heaven.
(d) We might additionally mention, though it does not strictly qualify as kavanah,
the emotional context. Treatises on the performance of mitzvot always stress the
significance of mood or attitude: goodwill, doing the job at hand with joy (beratson), adds
to the value and virtue of ones good deed, and conversely resentment and such depreciate
it. This is quite understandable, at least from the point of view of the order-giver, who does
not want the annoyance and interference of negative vibes (stiff-neck); from the viewpoint
of the order-receiver, however, there may be a felt need to express dissatisfaction or
disagreement, of involuntary compliance.
According to some Rabbis (including, as I recall, the Rambam and the Chafets
Chaim), without the required kavanah the action done or not-done is considered mere
happenstance, and does not constitute fulfillment of the corresponding mitzvah.
Now, the above is a very heavy doctrine, whose logical implications are manifold.
For what it means, in formal terms, is that the Divine commandments given in the Torah,
although expressed in simple forms like do this or dont do that, are really meant as
more complex forms, which include a multiplicity of tacit qualifications. Clearly, this
changes their logical properties. For instance, the two ethical propositions below have very
different logical properties:
X must do Y (simple).
X must do Y and be aware (to degree k) of doing Y and have motives l, n, m
while doing Y and do Y in order to fulfill the command to do Y (complex).
When I say that two such propositions have different logical properties, I mean that
they have different contradictories, different implications, and so forth - just as any
elementary proposition P has different logical properties, compared to any compound
proposition P+Q+R. All the more so, since the additional elements include mention of the
same subject and/or predicate in a complicated variety of ways.
It follows that, if the doctrine described above is to be accepted literally and in full,
so that there are effectively no simple ethical propositions in Judaism, then the logical
284

Note that in some cases, as I recall (though I cannot appose an example offhand),
Scripture itself mentions a motive; if so, it would seem obvious that the specified motive must play a
role. As a rule, the Rabbis disapprove of explanations for mitzvot, for fear that the mitzvot might be
erroneously limited thereby. For instances: to say that shaving is forbidden because heathen
priests engaged in it, might lead people to regard shaving as permissible so long as not performed
with idolatrous motives; or again, to say that pork was forbidden because it went bad quickly in hot
countries, might lead people to regard it as permissible in cold countries or in the days of
refrigerators. But a corollary of that view would be that if Scripture ever explicitly mentions a motive
for a mitzvah, then the performance of it without that motive would seem, logically, to be equivalent
to non-performance (i.e. to constitute, for a positive mitzvah, a useless act; and for a negative
mitzvah, a legitimate loop-hole). A davqa reading, akin to a klal uphrat inference, would in such
case seem justified; but I do not know if this position is accepted traditionally, or whether the
Rabbis nevertheless generalize the mitzvah.

208

JUDAIC LOGIC

system applicable to it is not (as often presumed) the system which applies to simple
ethical propositions, but a much more elaborate system appropriate to the more complex
forms, with strings of qualifications of the simple relations. It is very important to realize
the full weight of this implication of the doctrine.
There are yet other complementary factors which might need to be taken into
consideration:
In a natural ethics, the reward/punishment factor is built-in, because the things
one should or shouldnt do have a natural causal relation, constructive or destructive, to
ones standard of value - normally, human welfare. The doing or not-doing of so and so
causes an improvement or a damage in the goal(s) which constitute our norm; and the
seriousness of the measure depends on whether this causation is necessary or merely
helpful, sufficient or partial, categorical or conditional, etc.
Here, X should do Y, because if X does-not do Y, the ultimate goal(s) Z will be
disfavoured; or X should not-do Y, because if X does do Y, the ultimate goal(s) Z will
be disfavoured; or again, X may or may not do Y, because whether X does or does-not
do Y, the ultimate goal(s) Z will not be disfavoured, though one way may be more
favourable than the other, or unfavourable consequences may arise, one way and/or the
other, only under certain conditions instead of unconditionally.
But in a religious ethics, that is: one based on Divine Revelation, such causal
relations are not always apparent, especially in that the ultimate goal(s) involved may not
be altogether explicitly known to us (though commentators may variously presume this or
that to be Gods intentions). Moreover, the personal or collective reward/punishment may
not in all cases be in a naturally-apparent manner causally-connected to the deeds, but may
rather be connected by Divine fiat, as it were, in hidden pathways. I mean, granted that
Nature is also a product of Divine fiat, religion still presumes that some relations are
intrinsic to it (immanent, natural), while others use more extrinsic pathways (transcendent,
miraculous).
Thus, in religion, the reward or punishment, which we will symbolize by Z1 and
Z2, respectively, has the following formal relation to the command: X should do Y, and if
X does Y then Z1 is promised, and if X does not do Y then Z2 is threatened; and
similarly, in the case of X should not do Y, mutatis mutandis. The imperatives are
associated with promises and threats, but one may not formally infer from these
imperatives negative natural-conditional propositions.
Here, the reward/punishment complex is a Divinely-instituted appendage, which
may not (though it also may) have any natural causal connection to the (positive or
negative) imperative. The result is not automatically consequent, under Natural Law, but
mediated by ad hoc acts of will by God on a case-by-case basis. Even if Gods choices are
consistently uniform, they always retain a more voluntary character. This hypothesis would
explain the irregularity of results (which might alternatively be due to the complexities of
the natural causalities involved, of course), and fits neatly with the doctrine that God
wishes to reserve for Himself the option of mercy and forgiveness.
In this context, the issue of redemption arises. In nature, some mistakes can be
corrected, and others cannot. In Judaism, by special Divine dispensation, as it were, we are
more often than not offered further possibilities of redemption, the undoing and
forgiveness of fait accompli, beyond the natural, through repentance and personal change
(teshuvah), through charity (tsedakah) and sacrifice in the Temple (korbanot). All this has
logical significance.

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

209

Another issue with possible relevance is whether reward/punishment are related to

effort. Is Gods only interest in tachlit, the bottom line, getting the job done, or is the effort
expended in fulfilling a mitzvah significant to Him? Effort means work against resistance,
the resistance of ones own faculties or weaknesses or diverse external factors; or, in other
words, in a terminology dear to the Rabbis, the counter-pressure of the yetzer haraa, the
evil inclination allegedly possessed by mankind in particular and this-world in general.
With regard to reward, if two people fulfill the same mitzvah, and for one it was an
easy thing and for another a difficult thing, are they at the same moral/spiritual level? The
one for whom it was easy is in a sense proved the higher, in view of the facility
experienced; but the one for whom it was more difficult is in another sense proved the
higher, in view of the extra effort dedicated.
More specifically, for instance, if a person never kills or never steals or never
commits adultery (and many people fall in those categories), is such a person always
credited with virtue? Or does the merit depend on having been tempted and resisted
temptation, as some Rabbis claim, and does the merit grow as a function of the difficulty
encountered? In other words, to use a technological image, is only heat-production
respected in Jewish law, and superconductivity looked down upon?
More formally, does X must do Y imply, in the Torah, if it takes X an effort to
do Y, he is rewarded; else, not; and does X mustnt do Y imply, in the Torah, If X is
tempted yet resists to do Y, he is rewarded; else, not? It may not be possible to answer
such questions on formal grounds; any doctrine which is internally consistent, which
presents no inherent difficulty, is on equal footing from that point of view.
With regard to the negative mitzvot just mentioned, I would like to comment that
people are in fact constantly tempted: any cause for anger, real or imagined, is effectively a
temptation for violence and (eventually) murder, every object one can pick up (which
belongs to someone else) is a temptation for theft, every woman that passes by is a
temptation for rape and (if she is married) adultery. So, even if such temptations were
regarded as so small as to be nearly zero, for most people, or the overcoming of them was
viewed as generating a virtually negligible credit, for most people, we could still not truly
claim in such cases that no temptation at all was involved and therefore that no resistance
to temptation took place.
The idea of the more extreme Rabbis may be expressed more fully by saying that
each mitzvah refers to four outcomes (leaving aside more complex issues of kavanah
mentioned earlier) as follows: for example, that X must do Y in the Torah is intended to
mean X must will Y (see form (c), in the previous section), so that:
if X wills Y (= active performance), the mitzvah is fulfilled and rewarded;
if X does Y, but does not will Y (= passive performance), the mitzvah is not
truly fulfilled and no reward follows;
if X does not will Y, yet as it happens does not do Y (= sin of omission), the
mitzvah is breached though perhaps relatively less punishably;
if X wills not-Y (= sin of commission), the mitzvah is breached in a more
punishable manner.
Similarly, that X mustnt do Y in the Torah is intended to mean X mustnt will
Y (see form (d)), and this entails four outcomes as above, mutatis mutandis; and likewise,

210

JUDAIC LOGIC

supposedly, for X must do/will not-Y (see form (e)) and X mustnt do/will not-Y (see
form (f)). All that in itself seems consistent.
With regard to punishment, is a person who has tried his/her utmost to perform a
positive mitzvah or resist a temptation to sin, but failed, treated less severely than one who
has tried less or not tried at all? This question can also, like the preceding one, be
expressed in formal terms; it proposes further gradations. Our human sensibilities
concerning Justice would answer yes to it; Judaism tends to agree in principle, though
some stories seem to suggest that sometimes this is irrelevant.
Still further distinctions and gradations are called forth when we consider the issues
of kavanah. For instance, a person who did not know the law, having say been kidnapped
far from the community, and who consciously eats pork, is not comparable to someone
who knew the law and wished to break it to express rejection of it. Such fine subdivisions
are beyond the scope of the present study; I only mention them to remind the reader that
we have far from exhausted the issues.
While on the topic of reward/punishment, we should mention an interesting concept
of deontology (general ethical logic) found in the Bible and Talmud, that of remedy. For
example, it is forbidden to steal (a negative mitzvah), but if one did steal, returning the
stolen object to its owner (a positive mitzvah), in some cases with an extra amount of the
same object, frees the thief from the penalty incurred (such as lashes). Similar examples
can be found in man-made law and natural ethics.
Such corrective processes can be expressed in formal terms, as follows. In some
situations, X causes Y and NotX causes NotY; whereas in other cases, though X causes Y,
NotX does not cause NotY - so that the damage done (Y) by the violation (X) cannot be
undone (NotY) by a remedy (NotX). This is an insight, primarily, of causal logic, namely
that some causal relations are reversible, whereas with others whats done is done - they
are entropic, we might say.
In a broader sense, all reward or punishment, whether in this world or in the
afterlife, is considered as remedy. This is the concept of tiqun (repair), so dear to and
widely used by Jewish mystics. Life is either degeneration (through sin) or putting things
right (through good deeds or through reward/punishment by society or by God). Note that
reward is ultimately as much a tiqun as punishment, in that a never-rewarded good deed is
comparable to work without wages, there is an injustice involved, something which should
have been completed has not been.
It should be stressed that the Rabbis nowhere (so far as I know) explain just how they know
that mitzvot were intended by God to have the various special features they ascribe to them.
Certainly, the Written Torah is not as explicit as they are on such matters. Nor are any of the
inferences - emerging from by the special features discussed in this chapter - included in the main
lists of hermeneutic principles; nor is it anywhere shown precisely how such forms of argument
might be read into the Torah text by means of the listed hermeneutic principles. The special features
of Rabbinic ethical logic are merely taken for granted, as part and parcel of the oral tradition; and
perhaps viewed as implicit to some extent in the behavior of exemplary characters found in stories in
the Torah, Talmud and later inspirational literature. There are, as we have pointed out, discussions
among Rabbis as to their ultimate force of law. I would suggest that such special features developed
gradually in Rabbinic lore, generated by the idealism, and sometimes the oneupmanship, of
successive Rabbis.

Note, finally, that mitzvot may have still other features (unrelated to the above).
For instance, mitzvot are quite often temporally related, in forms like you the person(s)

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

211

concerned must perform Mitzvah A before Mitzvah B. These constitute

complementary commands, say C, whose subject is the same as A and B, and whose
predicate contains two commands in a specified sequence. Such statements may have any
polarity or modality285; and may be - as well as categorical - conditional, in diverse and
eventually complex hierarchies. Needless to say, the formal logic of such propositions can
get rather complicated. This feature is not peculiar to Jewish deontology, but may be found
in natural ethics, where complementary means to an end are often similarly ordered.
An example from Judaism is the sequence recommended for the mitzvot of tallit (prayer
shawl) and tefillin (phylacteries; leather boxes containing extracts from Scripture, with straps);
within the latter, in turn, the rosh (head) tefillin is to be put on before the yad (arm) tefillin. Strictlyspeaking, these are independent mitzvot, but the order in which they are here listed is the ideal. We
are also told precisely at what stages the appropriate blessings should be recited.286 How all this is
proved (if at all) from Scripture is another matter, to do with hermeneutics; our concern here is with
formalities.

3.

How to Count Mitzvot.

One

of the interesting, peculiar properties of Biblical or Talmudic/Rabbinic

commands is the non-equivalence between an ethical proposition and its obverse. That
is, X must Y and X mustnt not-Y (or similarly, X mustnt Y and X must not-Y),
although they logically imply each other, formally, in all cases, may nevertheless in some
cases be counted as two Mitzvot! For example, Deut. 22:19, which refers to cases of libel
of wife by husband, says both she shall remain his wife and he may not send her away
all his days; having to remain married and being forbidden to divorce are identical, yet are
here both specified. Another example is Deut. 25:17 and 19, the commandments to
remember and not-forget Amaleks misdeeds towards Israel.
It would at first sight seem like a redundancy, to repeat the same commandment in
positive and negative form; or one may suspect that the two wordings were counted as two
laws to satisfy some preconceived notion of the number of Mitzvot. But the explanation
given by the Rabbis is quite plausible, namely that this emphasis serves not only to doubly
encourage obedience of the command, but also to signify the extra possibilities of reward
or punishment inherent in its performance or in failure to do so. (Note that the positive and
negative mitzvot in question need not be close to each other in the Biblical text: for
instance Lev. 19:13 and Deut. 24:15, concerning paying a worker his wages without delay
and on time, are far apart yet complementary.)
Thus it is that there is a general (or nearly general) rule, to the effect that: the
disobedience of a positive command cannot be punished by Rabbinical courts, though it
may have negative social or Divinely-produced consequences, the latter in this life or in the
afterlife; whereas, disobedience of a negative command can indeed be punished by
Rabbinical courts, though again it may have consequences of one kind or another. With
285

Other forms include "A may precede B", "A must not-precede B", "A may not-precede B",
and so forth. Intermediate modalities like "should preferably" or "should preferably not" can also be
used (these correspond to degrees of probability in natural modality).
286
There are many additional prescriptions, such as that if one has taken up the yad tefillin
before the rosh tefillin, one should out of respect continue to put it on, or again, if one speaks in the
middle of the process, another blessing must be recited; and so on. From the formal point of view,
such details constitute a host of conditional (if-then) mitzvot.

212

JUDAIC LOGIC

regard to obedience of positive or negative commands, the reward of such obedience is not
usually within the competence of Rabbinical courts (though they may in some cases decree
a person be honoured, for instance), but may be programmed in nature (by God, of course)
or occur as a social phenomenon (most probably due to the ambient culture produced by
the Torah) or be effected Providentially (i.e. by Divine intervention) in this world or the
next.
Effectively, we have here a specialized linguistic convention that: when a command
is worded only positively, the courts are not competent to punish transgression, whereas
when it is expressed also or only negatively, they are so. It is a signal, a code, not found in
general language, and therefore not a rule of formal ethical logic, but peculiar (we are
taught) to the domain of Torah.
Note that, in some cases, the pair of positive and negative commands are not,
strictly-speaking, in a purely formal sense, obverts of each other. This may occur when the
positive command refers to a finite act of will, and the negative command refers not merely
to the absence of that will, but to another finite act of will in the opposite direction. For
examples. Deut. 22:29, concerning cases of rape, obligates marriage and forbids divorce;
these two mitzvot are not like the above mentioned case of Deut. 22:19 identical, for one
might well be forced to marry someone, yet not absolutely forbidden to turn around and
divorce her soon after.
Similarly, in Deut. 21:23 the prohibition to allow a man to remain hanging
overnight and the obligation to bury him on the same day as he was executed, are not exact
obverts of each other. In Deut. 22:1,3, the mitzvah to return lost property one finds, and the
warning not to pass-by and ignore it (so as to avoid the hassle of returning it), are not
implied by each other; similarly, with Deut. 22:4, concerning helping ones fellows fallen
animal. Again, the commandments in Deut. 22:6-7 concerning the mother-bird are not
inferable from each other (as it might have been required that we take neither mother nor
young, or mother but not young).
We also find in the Torah another form of apparent redundancy, the repetition of
certain laws in both generic and specific form. For example, if incest is forbidden
between a man and various specified near of kin (Lev. 18:7-18), one might ask what is the
point of forbidding it additionally with any near of kin (Lev. 18:6). Here again, the
explanation given by commentators is that such repetition signals the severity of the
mitzvah, and forewarns of the double jeopardy its disobedience implies, in the case of
negative mitzvot; or, in the case of positive mitzvot, their importance and double
recompense. A calculus is suggested. With regard to the example taken here, one might say
that whereas incest in general generates a moral debit of x, such practice with a specified
near of kin generates a greater debit, x + y.287
This issue incidentally raises another, of even broader interest to the formal logic of
ethical propositions. What are the logical relations between imperatives, permissions,

287

The example here taken is perhaps not the best, being too complex. The text may naturally
be interpreted as klal uphrat, meaning that the initial generality is limited to the specifics listed next
[fourth hermeneutic rule of R. Ishmael]; or the generality may be viewed as referring to noncopulative erotic acts, while the specifics may refer to copulation, though the wording is the same
[lo tikrav legalut ervah, don't approach to uncover nakedness]. Also, the subject of these
prohibitions is generally masculine [ish, a man], without clarification concerning the status of the
feminine partners. And so forth - but let us ignore such complications in this context.

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

213

prohibitions and exemptions? This question has to do with modal logic, and as we shall see
it may be answered entirely with reference to alethic (non-ethical) logic.
We know that, in the logic of non-ethical propositions, while predication of any
species syllogistically implies predication of all of its genera, predication of a genus does
not suffice to imply predication of any one (randomly selected) of its species, though it
does imply that at least one (without prejudice as to which one(s)) of its species must be
predicable. By contraposition it follows that: while denial of a generic predicate implies
denial of all relatively specific predicates, denial of any one (or even more than one,
provided less than all) of its species is not formally sufficient to deny a given genus, but it
takes denial of all of its species to ensure denial of a given genus.
As we shall now show, certain rules may be inferred from the above, with respect
to ethical logic. The formal relation of ethical to neutral propositions is to be found in
teleology (a derivative of causal logic). Normative statements refer to means and ends,
they tell us whether such and such is needed for, harmful to, or neither needed for nor
harmful to, some accepted standard of value. This norm may have its source in revelation,
or in rational deliberations or in irrational choices, it may be more or less explicit, and it
may be unitary or manifold (provided that it is internally consistent, or at least that its parts
are clearly hierarchized).
In Judaism, the norm is Gods Will, whose precise content we know only partly and
speculatively, insofar as it is implicitly expressed in the Torah through the laws and stories
(and similarly, mutatis mutandis, in certain other religions). In Natural Ethics, the norm is
general human welfare, which may be broadened to include the ecological concerns, and
this is largely explicit and consistent, to the extent that it is knowable through biology and
kindred sciences. More subjective ethical systems refer to personal emotions or the welfare
of special groups (e.g. a race) as their standard, and are largely unverbalized and often
inconsistent. In any case, whatever the standard of value (which we shall label C), the
following formal relations are set by logical science, for any given action (call it B)
performed by someone (A):
A must do B (B is imperative for A), means that if A does not do B, C cannot
occur.
A musnt do B (B is forbidden to A), means that if A does do B, C cannot
occur.
A neither must nor mustnt do B (call this license, for lack of a better word),
means that whether A does or doesnt do B, C can still occur.
Additionally:
A may do B (B is permitted to A), means that B is either imperative or licensed
to A.
A may not-do B (B is exempt to A), means that B is either forbidden or licensed
to A.
These, then, are the alethic interpretations of categorical ethical necessity,
impossibility, contingency, possibility and unnecessity, respectively. Our palette of ethical
modalities may be extended further with reference to conditional teleologies. Thus, for
instances, A doing B is conducive to C, if it causes C in certain circumstances; and A doing

214

JUDAIC LOGIC

B is dangerous to C, if it inhibits C (causes not-C) in certain circumstances. Now, our goal

here is to find the relationships between species and genera of action. Knowing that a
given genus (say G) is imperative or forbidden or whatever, what can we infer concerning
its species (say S1, S2, S3,...); and vice versa?
a.
If a genus G is imperative, no given one of its species is logically implied
to be imperative, or anything else, though it is implied that at least one of its species has to
be performed, otherwise G cannot occur, and therefore C cannot occur. Note well that S1,
S2, S3... are disjunctively, but not individually or distributively, and still less collectively,
implied imperative by Gs imperativeness; it is only the disjunction of the series of S which
is affected, each and every S may just as well, in itself, be licensed, or imperative or even
forbidden. It follows, by contraposition, that it does not suffice to know that each and every
one of its species, S1, S2, S3, ..., are exempt, to infer that a genus G is exempt, but we must
establish that the species are not disjunctively imperative, as just defined; note this well!
Thus, if any species, say S1, is exempt, no inference concerning its genera, such as G, is
logically possible.
b.
If a genus G is forbidden, all (each and every) of its species are logically
implied to be forbidden, because if any (one or more) of the species occurred, G would
occur, and thereby C couldnt occur. Here, the prohibition of G is transmitted to S1, S2,
S3, ..., distributively and collectively; the link is much stronger than in the previous case,
note well. It follows, by ad absurdum, that if any species, say S1, is permitted, then all its
genera, such as G, are permitted (either imperative or licensed).
c.
If any species, say S1, is imperative, then all of its genera, such as G, are
imperative, because the absence of G (which is implied by S1) would imply the absence of
S1, under which condition C cannot occur. Note that Gs other species, S2, S3, ..., need not
for all that be imperative; Gs imperativeness, here, is rather incidental to S1s, more in the
way of an inevitability, due to the fact that you cannot generate S1 without G; only if all of
its species were equally imperative, would G be imperative per se. It follows, by ad
absurdum, that if a genus G is exempt, then all its species, S1, S2, S3, ..., are exempt
(either forbidden or licensed).
d.
If any species, say S1, is forbidden, no inference is possible concerning its
genus G, because given that S1 implies not-C and S1 implies G, we can only conclude that
G does not imply C (since if G implied C, then S1 would imply both not-C and C, whence
S1 would be impossible, contrary to the premise that it is forbidden, which implies
potential). G may equally be imperative (not-G implies not-C, in which case the remaining
species S2, S3, ..., are at least disjunctively imperative), or forbidden (G implies not-C, in
which case S1s prohibition is simply a consequence of Gs), or neither imperative nor
forbidden (G does not imply C only excludes the possibility that G be imperative to notC, which does not concern us, since it is C that is our standard of value). It follows from all
the above, that if a genus G is permitted, no inference is logically possible concerning its
species S1, S2, S3, ...; each of them could equally be imperative (in which case, G would
be imperative, and therefore permitted) or licensed (implying only that G is permitted) or
forbidden (nothing implied for G).
Note well, finally, that knowing a genus G to be licensed (i.e. neither imperative
nor forbidden), we can only infer for its species that they are exempt (i.e. either forbidden
or licensed); and knowing any species, say S1, to be licensed, we can only infer for its
genera, such as G, that they are permitted. These relations follow from the above. We need
not pursue the matter further, here, with reference to conditional situations.
It should however be noted that the above principles, describing how ethical
modality is transmitted or relayed up or down conceptual hierarchies, can also be

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

215

expressed in the form of modal syllogisms. The most obvious valid moods being (see b, c,
above, which yield categorical conclusions):
G is a genus of S1,
and A mustnt do G;
therefore, A mustnt do S1.

S1 is a species of G,
and A may do S1;
therefore, A may do G.

G is a genus of S1,
and A may not-do G;
therefore, A may not-do S1.

S1 is a species of G,
and A must do S1;
therefore, A must do G.

In everyday discourse by religious Jews, we find the term mitzvah used in a loose,
broad sense covering any good deed or proper restraint, which will get you brownie points.
However, in the context of the doctrine that there are 613 Mitzvot for the Jews, or of the
doctrine of 7 Mitzvot for the Bnei Noach (non-Jews), the term acquires more restricted
senses, which are also not quite the same in each system. This phenomenon will now be
explained, because it is rather interesting from the logicians point of view and rather
special to Jewish (or Jewish-style) law.
Formal logic deals in meaningful grammatical sentences, each of which symbolizes
some phenomenal appearance, be it concrete or abstract, material or mental, empirical or
hypothetical, real or illusory. Viewed in this broad-minded way, even the subjective is
objective, and logic is at all times open to all candidates to membership in the body of
knowledge it seeks to gradually construct. Every event has a great many facets and a great
many levels, which are interconnected in a great many ways. Each of these innumerable
phenomena, each phenomenon within or next to every other, may be represented for
conceptual purposes through verbal propositions; but many objects of perceptual
experience or of insight are never verbalized.
In this flexible perspective, it would be absurd and arbitrary to try and dogmatically
enumerate laws of any kind, and say there are N laws of nature in such and such a field
(e.g. Three Laws of Thermodynamics) or there are M moral laws to follow in such and
such a situation (e.g. Seven Cardinal Sins). The enumeration would have to capture all the
propositions, at a certain same level, which are true and from which all others relating to
the topic concerned can be inferred; and it would claim a certain finality.
Such an ultra-rationalistic logistic programme, which is still found among modern
logicians with Cartesian inclinations, takes no account of the moment-by-moment import
of empirical data which occurs in practice. Such gradual input is bound to affect, not only
the applications of laws, but their very bases and contents.
One may, in any science or body of knowledge, identify certain larger principles,
however arrived at, as dominating the remaining data, in a way resembling the deductive
relationship between axioms and theorems; but every wise thinker keeps in mind the
inductive sources of the whole, and remains pragmatic in his approach. All this to say:
rigidly counting laws would be a very artificial procedure, particularly if one insisted on
adhering to a given number. Yet this is found in Jewish law, and predictably affects not
only its content, but its form.
Thus it is that different Rabbis will agree that there are 613 Mitzvot for Jews, or 7
Mitzvot for non-Jews, in accordance with Talmudic traditions, but will disagree somewhat
regarding which commandments precisely are to be included in or excluded from the list

216

JUDAIC LOGIC

concerned! So long as they arrive at the correct total, even superficially, they retain a
certain legitimacy; whereas a system which refused to recognize the magic number,
insisting on an irreducibly larger or smaller number, would from the outset be eliminated.
An additional given is that there be 248 positive Mitzvot and 365 negative Mitzvot288. My
purpose here is not to criticize such an approach, but to emphasize the logical specificities
it generates.
Still, it is interesting to note that the number 613 TaRYaG, in Hebrew is only based, so far
as I know, on one passing mention in Maccot 23b, quoting Rabbi Simlai, and the Talmud has no
one-by-one enumeration of these Mitzvot. One explanation of the number that I have read
somewhere is that it consists of the sum of: 2 for the first two of the Ten Commandments, which the
Children of Israel heard at Sinai directly from God; plus 611, which is the gematria of the word
TORaH (T=400, O=6, R=200, H=5), which were received by them indirectly through Moshe.
Whether this explanation was constructed ex post facto, or was the original reason for the number, I
do not know.

One cannot, in such a context, count just any mitzvah (ethical sentence) as a
Mitzvah (note my use of a capital M). Only certain mitzvot qualify for the honour, and
their ability to do so is mainly traditional (for instance, they are in the list proposed by the
Rambam in the Sefer HaMitzvot, or that in the Sefer HaChinukh). One cannot strictly say
that these laws, known as av (father) mitzvot, are all at the same conceptual level; nor that
they taken together will allow the strictly deductive inference of all other laws, though
many are indeed inferable (in which case they are called toledot descendants). Thus, the
enumeration has no natural basis; it is an imposed structure.
To some extent, then, the Mitzvot are a grab-bag; which perhaps reflects the
complexities of the world to which they are intended to apply. Whereas from the point of
view of formal logic (and indeed for codes of law like the Shulchan Arukh, as mentioned
below), any individual injunction, be it categorical or conditional, imperative or otherwise,
would count as an ethical sentence (mitzvah), a traditional Mitzvah (av mitzvah) may
consist of a cluster of such sentences, in conjunction or in disjunction, explicit or implicit.
Perhaps most mitzvot are implied in the Mitzvot; but in all honesty, strictly-speaking, one
cannot claim that all are: many details are contributed by tradition or later Rabbinic
decisions, and many vary from community to community.
To give an example at random. In Exod. 20:12, honour your father and your
mother, two distinct items are listed (rather than just parents), and yet they count as one
law. Sometimes, the composition is more complicated: for instance, Deut. 25:3, Forty
strikes may he give him, not more, prescribes the giving of strikes, permits up to 40 of
them, and forbids more than forty, all in one and the same sentence. It is not always easy to
predict and understand how and why the Rabbis split some sentences into two or more
separate Mitzvot, while they kept others, or fused some, as single Mitzvot.
More broadly, let us remark that in some cases, sentences which intuitively might have
been considered as laws, end-up rejected by Rabbinic decision; whereas, sentences which might at
first sight have seemed incidental story-telling end-up as laws. All this has to be explained on a caseby-case basis, with reference to the relevant Talmudic and post-Talmudic discussions; there is no
sweeping justification. The oral tradition also stretches and delimits laws, stating how far they are
applicable and detailing their exceptions.

288

Said to correspond to the 248 bones of our bodies and 365 days of the year, and implying
the necessity to involve all one's faculties all the time to service of God. (I do not know if our bodies
really have precisely 248 bones; as for 365 days, that is a round number, corrected in leap years.)

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

217

If now we turn our attention from such numerical systems to the developed lawsystem of the Shulchan Arukh, we see that the latter is concerned with listing all the
mitzvot (small m), without attempting to count them, which are generally accepted as
Halakhah, and even many subcultural traditions (minhagim). While the Code of 613
Mitzvot is by definition exclusive, the Shulchan Arukh is rather an attempt at
exhaustiveness (and a degree of order, for currently relevant laws at least). It is clear that
one cannot expect to mechanically derive the thousands of nuances in casuistry of the
Shulchan Arukh from the 613 Mitzvot. Rather, the 613 could be regarded as heads of
chapters, which signify certain collections of mitzvot of varying importance and consensus.
Furthermore, as Aaron Lichtenstein has ably shown in his The Seven Laws of Noah,
the term Mitzvah does not have quite the same denotation or connotations in the legal code
of 613 Mitzvot and in that of 7 Mitzvot. There are parallels and genetic relations between
these systems, but there are also some radical differences and differences of detail. Here
again, then, the term mitzvah has a varying meaning (even after the elucidation of about
66 equivalences between the two systems proposed by Lichtenstein, as he himself argues).
The concept of chapter-heads, rather than top principles from which all others are
inferred, is also made evident in this work: in the list of Noachic laws, the titles tend to
describe an extreme negative behavior pattern (for instance, eating a limb off a live
animal), without apparently limiting itself to it, i.e. without precluding other proscribed
behaviors and even prescribed positive behavior patterns (in the case at hand, against other
forms of cruelty to animals and for kindness to them).
We see from the foregoing discussion that the counting of mitzvot is no simple
matter.

4.

Commanded vs. Personal Morality.

According to Judaism, a person has greater merit for doing a good deed if he was
commanded by God to do it, than if he merely voluntarily took it upon himself to do it.
Indeed, in some instances (for instance, shaking the lulav when it is not the festival of
Succoth), doing the deed without having been commanded to is useless and gains one no
credit; in some instances (as in the case of presumptive keeping of the Sabbath by a nonJew), it is even counterproductive and punishable.
Ethics, in this perspective, is not universal in the sense of uniform for all - but
may vary from group to group or even among individuals. Thus, Jews may have one set of
rules, non-Jews another; Israelites, Levites and Kohens may be subject to different rules, as
may relatively volunteer classes of individuals, like nazirites, judges (within a Beit-Din,
or religious court) or kings; men, women, and children need not have the same obligations,
restrictions and liberties; prophets or kings may receive very personal orders; and so forth.
Not only may rules vary from population to population, but reward and punishment may
likewise vary, accordingly.
I see no logical difficulty in this viewpoint, in the sense that I have never agreed
with the Kantian idea that the moral is necessarily reciprocal and universal. Deontology,
the general logic of ethical forms, cannot be presumed to consist simplistically of
exclusively categorical ethical-mode statements, but must consider a complex intertwining
of conditional statements. Just as the non-ethical aspect of nature displays diversity and
conditionality, as well as some uniformity and categoricality - so may the ethical aspect of

218

JUDAIC LOGIC

nature (to the extent that it exists), and all the more so God-given ethics, display these
various modalities.
Furthermore, in both natural and religious ethics, conditioning may be of any
category and type of modality: it may be extensional (schematically: in the case of this
class of people, thusly; in all other cases, otherwise), natural/temporal (e.g. when a nazir
eats a certain quantity of grapes, then he is subject to certain penalties), or even epistemic
(i.e. if a person was aware of so and so, he is responsible for such and such; alternatively,
not). The search for absolutes (for an ethic which can be proved with certainty) must not
be confused with a pursuit of categoricals.
Of course, where no truly convincing cause for discrimination is available, one is
logically bound to revert to the idea of reciprocity and universality (known to philosophers
as the Principle of Uniformity of Indistinguishables). Such positivism or minimalism is
often justified and inevitable, at least within a natural knowledge framework; and indeed it
is applied in the religious context, where the text of reference has not specified any
distinctions to be made. For in such cases, legal differentiation between people and lack of
equity (equality before the law) would be arbitrary and unjustifiable.
But, where religious ethics is concerned, our attitude is that if God, the Creator of
all fact, including ethical fact, chooses to subdivide responsibilities and structure reward
and punishment in uneven ways, and communicates His will in this respect to us, that is
His prerogative, and we are bound to comply. The reason for this attitude is not necessarily
that there exists a cause for discrimination invisible to us though visible to God (though in
some cases, this may be true), but that God is free to assign different functions and wages
to His various workers, however indistinguishable they be in their natural or spiritual
characteristics. He is the Boss.
However, the said viewpoint is difficult to accept, at another level, for someone in modern
democratic western society, at a time in history and in places where the experience of the totalitarian
oriental or medieval monarch has thankfully virtually disappeared. Our society is very permissive
and liberal (and nevertheless, thank God, it is not totally and extremely amoral or immoral, and is
even in many respects more moral than ever before). This stance is the product of a development,
which has even been noticeable within the space of my own lifetime, but has its roots far in the
Enlightenment (including, to some extent, Immanuel Kant, but many others too) and subsequent
philosophical and political events.
It is hard for us to accept, as the paradigm of morality, the behavior-pattern of a frightened
slave, doing his assigned duties with nothing in it for his or her self, simply because the master
commanded it threateningly, thinking only as far as necessary to fulfill the command, and so forth.
We want to understand things more, we expect fairness more. Selfless submission and pure
obedience seem to us to be remote theoretical constructs, inventions of austere and insensitive
moralists; they no longer seem so beautiful and ideal. Such attitudes must be taken into
consideration.

What I want to discuss here is whether an externally imposed course of action,

Divinely commanded, to be sure, but done in the way of a duty, is morally higher, as normsetting Judaism seems to suggest - or whether a person is more credibly moral who acts
from a deep internal intuition of right and wrong, spontaneously, without being forced to,
out of genuine love for the world, for fellow creatures, and for God. More simply put, the
question is really: who is the nicer guy, the one who gives you charity or who doesnt kill
you, just because he has been so commanded - or the one who gives you charity or who
doesnt kill you, because he himself loves you?
Bound with this issue is that of the actual psychology of religious study and
observance, which suggests that the answer to our question varies from case to case. For

ON THE CONCEPT OF MITZVAH

219

there is surely a difference, for the most part, between the motivations religion ideally
demands of its adherents in theory, and those which actually move them in practice. And
while religion views this gap hopefully as a passing phase, which it is precisely the job of
study and observance to close - we must linger on it more attentively. We must ask, what
in fact makes most religious people act as they do, i.e. in apparent accordance with the
precepts of the religion.
And the reply cannot be that such people have at the outset the same valuejudgments as the religion. It may be that they do, if they happen to have been culturally
prepared since youth to that effect, though this does not prove that under other influences
they would not have acquired other values and convictions. But in any case, new arrivals to
the religion, whether Jews doing teshuvah (return) or gerim (converts), while they may
have out of personal life-experience acquired some values and convictions in common with
those proposed by the religion - enough to draw them to it - new arrivals, I say, are
systematically acculturated and made to acquire desires and beliefs they previously lacked.
Thus, while the initial motives drawing a new arrival may have been the desire to
escape painful experiences, like loneliness and confusion, or more positively the desire to
gain an edge in a competitive world by receiving the favour of the Ruler of the world, or
perhaps even simply getting material help from the Jewish community - the religion
induces new, additional desires in the newcomer, as its condition for belonging to the
group, which may include various material, psychological, familial, national, political and
spiritual desires. For example, the newcomer may have no initial interest in the world to
come or the messiah, but the religion gradually makes him believe these are his own most
fervent wishes, and even that they always have been.
Objectively speaking, at any given time in a persons spiritual development, some
aspects of his indoctrination have become internalized, and others are still essentially at an
artificial level of pretense or mimicry, while yet other aspects are still being rejected.
Whereas in the case of role-play a distinction is possible between the subject and his
response or behavior pattern, in the case of an internalized doctrine such an objective
distinction is rather difficult to make. The difference between traits and habits acquired, on
the one hand through the natural process we call experience, and on the other hand
through the social process we call indoctrination, becomes at some point academic except insofar as or to the extent that the method of influence used involved violence or
conscious lies, so that the subject was forced or tricked rather than a voluntary participant.
Similar doubts exist even with regard to the person motivated to virtue by nonreligious forces. While good deeds (or restraints), like acts of charity (or non-violence),
may have external resemblances, their internal roots vary widely, from mean and ugly
ulterior motives to beautiful, uplifting examples of sincere human love and siblinghood. It
would be unfair to assume only negative subtexts, and naive to suppose only positive ones.
For these reasons, it is not clear to me why some Rabbis insist that good deeds (or
restraints) based on purely secular motives are automatically suspect. I find it hard to
believe that human nature is intrinsically evil and lowly, when without explicit Divine
guidance. Rather, I think that humans have an innate minimum of morality, expressed in
various ways and different in degree from person to person, which it is difficult for them to
fall below. Often, to be sure, an individuals minimum of morality, the limits he/she will
not pass no matter what the stress or temptation, has cultural roots (which may indeed be
ultimately religious), but it is there all the same.
A conformity, however superficial, with the law (whether the 7 Mitzvot for nonJews or the 613 Mitzvot for Jews), is still respectable, even though deeper accord with the
spirit of the law is always more admirable. The Rabbis argue that when a law exists (or,

220

JUDAIC LOGIC

rather, is known or thought to exist) the evil impulse to resist it is greater, and therefore
the obedience of the law is all the more commendable; whereas, actions (or inactions)
performed against no such resistance are almost worthless. This may explain why one
should rather do right in obedience of a law (applicable to one) than for personal motives,
or why a person to whom the law was applicable is more creditable than a person to whom
it was not, though both obey it. But in my opinion such argument has only comparative
force, it cannot be taken to the extreme.
In brief, even though we can formulate a typology of the more desirable and the
less desirable motivations, differences between motivations are in practice often blurred
and moot, and it is difficult to judge without prejudicial type-casting just where each
person stands.
A person who is well-practiced in the art of self-knowledge may in the limit have a
good idea of his/her own motivations; but understanding other people is much more
difficult and mostly a guessing game. For our judgment is highly coloured by our level of
tolerance and love, for ourselves and others. People who habitually judge themselves too
harshly will tend to judge others just as or even more harshly; those who are overly
complacent with themselves may either be equally so with others (to excuse themselves) or
nevertheless judgmental towards others (using double standards).
The true conclusion is that human beings are not like material objects, definitely
this or definitely that, their character traits are indefinite - a was somewhat, a seeming to
become, a tending to be, rather than a being. It is not always clear just what they are not merely to us, the subjective or objective observers, but in reality, in fact.
While on the subject of harsh judgment, I would like to comment on an indecent mode of
thought some religious people engage in. I refer to the tacit suspicion of every victim, if not every
sufferer. They think: if God is just, then every victim/sufferer must have committed some crime/sin
in the past for which he/she is thus punished289. In this view, there are no innocent
victims/sufferers, and all pity is misplaced, all compassion gratuitous; misfortune becomes proof of
hidden fault!
It does not seem credible that God would use a criminals misdeed as His instrument for the
punishment of the victim: that would imply that, even while condemning such crime, He is in a way
an instigator or accomplice of it, and the criminal is in the service of justice! No: crime must be
viewed as a persons initiative, entirely disapproved of by God. God may ex post facto balance the
victims ledger a bit, but He had no need of the crime for that. We might more credibly regard
natural misfortunes as Gods doings for purposes of justice; but even that is, I think, simplistic. Just
as God lets crimes take place, so (or all the more so) He lets natural misfortunes occur.
Sufferings suggest a distance taken by God, letting the human drama unfold within certain
parameters, usually without interference. (Why such negligence and how to reconcile it with justice,
I do not know.) There are some evident causal connections between sufferings and previous
misdeeds, but very often (as e.g. with the Shoah) credible explanations are lacking. Balancing of
accounts must be a later matter, after life (if at all). That seems to be the only empirical and
reasonable viewpoint.

289

There are hints of this view in the Talmud. In Hindu/Buddhist philosophy, the argument
refers to 'karma', and presumes a victim to have committed a similar crime in a past life, if not the
present one. But this presupposes an infinite regression; crime must have started somewhere,
sometime.

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

221

14. LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH.

Here, in conclusion, we shall examine some of the logical difficulties and

paradoxes in the concept of religious faith.

1.

On Natural Proofs of Religion.

In discussing the logic in religious documents like the Bible or Talmud, we have
had no occasion to consider what philosophers call proofs of God. The reason is simple:
the pursuit of such proofs is not a religious phenomenon, at least not originally, but a
concern of secular philosophy (specifically, the branch called theology). The Torahs
proofs of God are implied in the epiphanies and acts of God that it reports, like His
appearance to Moses in the Burning Bush or His division of the Red Sea. When the
prophets argue on Gods behalf, they do not use abstract philosophy, but refer to Biblical
events which are taken for granted. Similarly, the Talmud takes off from the Biblical
document without critically questioning its origin or contents. Nevertheless, nowadays
theological discussions inevitably linger on natural proofs of religion. The modern mind
requires it.
It must be said at the outset that there are no unassailable proofs of Judaisms
beliefs; nor are there disproofs. Every known argument, one way or the other, has a
rebuttal. Unless we are each personally and constantly in the Presence of God, we are
bound to have to rely on faith; and lacking such experience, our reason also cannot with
certainty deny its Object. The main characteristics we attribute to God in our thinking, our
definition of him as Existent, Unitary, Unique, Omnipresent, Omniscient, Omnipotent,
Creator and Master of everything, perfectly just and merciful Judge, providential and
gracious, and so forth, are all intellectual and emotional projections (constructions largely
based on Torah data, to be sure), which ultimately depend on acts of faith.
These comments apply equally to Christianity, Islam, and other monotheistic
religions. As for systems like Hinduism, Taoism or Buddhism, they too contain unprovable
and undisprovable beliefs, like the idea of karma or the notion that liberation is possible
(by means like meditation or whatever). In every religion, there are certain starting points,
which one may choose to accept or refuse; logic becomes used in them only as from those
points of departure.
Consider, first, the most natural of arguments in favor of belief in God. Looking
around one at the world, one is bound to marvel at the miracle of existence, at the fact that
anything at all exists, and furthermore at the degree of variety, order and complexity of
what exists, not to mention the wonder of our consciousness of all that. This general
miracle, which seen daily passes unnoticed, is surely more impressive than any particular
miracle, like the Splitting of the Red Sea. Where did all this come from? It could not

222

JUDAIC LOGIC

always have been there! Who made it happen? It is too fancy to have happened by
chance and ex nihilo (even supposing the concepts of chance and nothingness at all
meaningful)! Thinking thus, one may easily infer: yes! There must be a God, powerful and
conscious to a very high degree, who created all this, the miracle of Nature.290
However, convincing as this argument may seem291, it is easily rebutted. For we can
similarly argue that if this universe we experience is a marvelous thing, how much more
marvelous is an Entity capable of creating it! Our initial argument posited God as an
explanation of the surprising phenomenon before us; but upon reflection we must admit
that we have thereby given ourselves an even more complicated problem to solve292. We
could therefore argue: if the world requires explanation, how much more so God; and
if God requires no explanation, how much less so the world. In brief, our intervention
has only been briefly satisfying; the initial problem remains essentially unsolved; if we
achieved anything, it was to complicate matters further.
Thus, whether we refer to the existence as such of the world as a whole (positing a
cosmological argument) or to the variety, order and complexity of its parts (a teleological
argument), the logical impact of such ontological arguments is identical - nil. We may
through such reasoning make the interesting discovery that matter may have been created
ex nihilo by a spiritual Being, but that does not provide us with a final explanation of
things. The existence and power of the Creator remain a formidable mystery293. In any case,
note well, such neutralization of the argument does not prove anything against the idea of
God; it merely signifies that the proposed course of reasoning is not logically conclusive.
An alternative philosophical approach to the issue, is epistemological rather than
ontological. We may ask the question: what would in principle constitute definite proof for
or against each of the tenets of religion; what would it take to convince us firmly? For
290
This sort of intellectual pursuit of the First Cause, is found in Greek philosophy. One
Talmudic version is the story in Midrash Genesis Rabbah (ch. 38), according to which the patriarch
Abraham arrived to a knowledge of God by reasoning backwards from each thing to its cause. The
argument has often, in philosophy, been understood as based on the idea that everything has a
cause, therefore so must the universe have one; but such an idea is consistent only if we accept
that of infinite series, which is rather difficult to accept, and which in any case if accepted would
exclude acceptance of a first cause. The version more commonly found today appeals rather to the
need to explain the improbable fact and richness of existence; it refers to complexity as much as to
causality.
291
And I can testify that there have been times in my life when this has been the only
convincing argument I had left to offer myself!
292
As for the belief, found in Hinduism and Christianity, that God has appeared in human form
(incarnation), it does not merely present a more difficult technical problem; it is rather an
unconscionable concept: how can a container contain itself? If at all, such appearance would have
to be postulated as a projected illusion, a sort of holograph, at best; it cannot be proposed as a
'real' material body like that of human beings.
293
Note that the argument is often misconstrued as an attempt to explain matter. But it is not
so, essentially; for the mind (consisting of the stuff of our inner experiences and the soul we seem
to have) is just as fascinating an enigma, if not more so. The problem is more broadly: existence. In
this perspective, we may say that Judaism, which conceives of an eternal spiritual God, preceding
and outlasting all matter, and Aristotle, who conceives of an everlasting universe, including God
and matter, are basically in agreement with regard to the eternity of existence as such (for the
former, with regard to Gods existence only; for the latter, more broadly). This is ironic, considering
how some commentators present these doctrines as in radical conflict; they are in disagreement,
but only in relation to the issue of matters longevity. A truly radical counter-thesis is the claim that
existence suddenly appeared spontaneously out of non-existence; some people apparently believe
that. But the way the latter thesis is imaginable should be noted: we visualize the event like a
cartoon on TV, the screen is at first empty, then pop! a universe appears from nowhere; however,
there is a screen to begin with, and there may be invisible events behind the screen.

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

223

instance, with regard to the existence of God, one might assume that some manifestation of
Divinity, such as a great light or a very unnatural occurrence, would firmly convince any
empiricist.
However, it is conceivable that even under such conditions, once the surprise is
over and one has had a chance to think again, one may even doubt ones vision! Normally,
we do not doubt any experience unless we have cause to, due to some conflicting
experience; however, the intellect is always capable of skepticism and might be able to find
some excuse for it even under the conditions stated294. We may consider this scenario as
acceptable to the Torah, since we know from within it that even after witnessing
extraordinary events such as the Exodus from Egypt or the Giving of the Torah at Sinai,
there were individuals who evidently, as their deeds demonstrate, had doubts concerning
the reality or significance of these events.
With regard to the characteristics of God we have mentioned, other than Existence,
the following comments may be made. Most of these concepts encapsulate some logical
perplexity. How may God have many attributes and powers and yet be one? Some, like
Maimonides, try to bypass the issue, by saying, His oneness is something different from
the unity of any thing in the natural world, it is unique; or, by claiming (contrary to the
Torahs practice) that we can only describe God by means of negative propositions, saying
what He is not (not plural, not finite, etc.). But these are artifices, which do not really
resolve the paradoxes. God as both transcendent and immanent, the uncreated creator and
unmoved mover of everything, all-knowing with an inner and outer perspective, allpowerful with unsurpassable control of events - all these concepts are extrapolations of
natural powers and events to an extreme degree, but we have no experience of them nor
capacity for it.
How can a human, not him/her self knowing everything, know that God knows
everything; how can a human, in whose experience all powers are finite, know of an agent
of will capable of doing anything it wants? At best, what is involved is a Walt Disney
imagination, without attention to detail. The definitions of such limitless concepts are
unavoidably mere juggling of words, they refer to nothing we have real knowledge of.
Indeed, the concepts are fraught with logical problems. Can an omniscient being
conceivably know that he is omniscient? he can only assume it, for there may well be
something beyond his ken he is not aware of295. Does omnipotence include the capacity for
self-creation ex-nihilo? the idea is unconscionable. How are we to conceive God as being
everywhere, the being and sustainer of being of all material, mental and spiritual existents,
the container of the whole universe, and yet somehow not get into pantheism, as did
Spinoza?
And so forth - my purpose is not here to exhaust the issues, or cause loss of faith,
but merely to point out that any attempt to rationalize our standard ideas about God is a
display of naivety. Better to humbly acknowledge the difficulties involved and our reliance
on faith.

294
Hypotheses circulated in recent years to explain the Sinai experience include, for
instances, references to psychotropic substances, or technological gadgets, or visiting
extraterrestrials.
295
Of course, by definition (deductively) an in-fact omniscient being knows his omniscience.
But the problem is at the inductive level, gradual development. More needs to be said on this and
similar issues.

224

JUDAIC LOGIC

To conclude this topic, then, we must say that reason can order and make consistent
our thoughts concerning God and other religious beliefs, but it can never definitely prove
them. It is vain to seek actual proof. There is no escape from the necessity of emunah,
faith. Faith is essential to freedom of will and moral responsibility: if the moral act is done
under the compulsion, as it were, of mere logic, the human being loses his special status as
decider. To say this, is not to provide a sort of transcendental proof of religion - but is
merely an explanatory perspective, proposed from within religion, after its acceptance. The
undecided are not logically compelled by it, but are still free to choose for themselves
whether to believe or not to believe.
Furthermore, it must be noted that proof of God would in no way entail proof of the
rest of religion. Given that God exists, there still remains the issue as to which religious
document, if any, is to be relied on as Gods message to us. Is it to be the Torah, the
Gospels, or the Koran, or the Baghavad-Gita, for that matter? An additional act of faith is
required here too! Furthermore, granting the choice of the Written Torah as a whole (in our
case)296, a multitude of additional acts of faith are required to believe in the Oral Law (the
Talmud and subsequent Rabbinic developments). Every law, attitude and story in the Bible
and subsequent religious literature, is a complex of separate beliefs, requiring a new act of
faith. Washing the hands in the morning, the nidah going to the mikveh, as much as belief
in invisible entities (like angels), acts (like Divine judgment) and domains (like the Worldto-come) are bundles of acts of faith.
The demand for proof of God becomes, in this perspective, merely the beginning of
an infinite process. If we awaited the answers, refusing faith, we would never find the time
to enter religion...

2.

Theodicy and the Believers Wager.

In

any case, in practice (we must keep insisting on this point), people do not
become religious on account of rationalistic arguments, but for more visceral motives.
Good philosophy tries to abstain from extreme rationalism, and while it tends to frown on
confused anarchism, it is open to considerable speculation and intuition. But religion
allows the irrationalism in us, our instinctive deeper yearnings and emotional responses,
greater freedom. This is, I think, its human dimension; it makes us more than machines.
To be sure, the extremes of religion, fundamentalism, or more precisely integrism297, are
to a large extent products of an excessive rationalism (in a pejorative sense of the term - it is the

296
Which is not an easy feat, in view of its lack of system (why would God's historic statement
to humanity be so disorderly, so 'unprepared'?); and the many apparent inaccuracies and
inconsistencies in it (those noted by the Rabbis, and those ignored by them); not to mention the
disproportionately large place given to apparently minor matters, while major issues are glossed
over or totally ignored. But a critique of the Torah is not in order, here: the present work takes it, as
much as possible, as the point of departure.
297
L'integrisme, a French word which seems to be becoming English. It is handy because it
describes the total empire religion may have on its adherents, dragging them into ever more
demanding commitment. Its connotation is, however, especially political; the terrorist tactics of
various Islamic fanatics or absolute theocracy of Iranian ayatollahs (clergy), which we currently
witness daily in the news, sadly come to mind. The term is still accurate in this context, suggesting
totalitarianism, the desire of some to have everyone else follow their path and to control all aspects
of their lives. 'Fundamentalism' rather indicates the level of text the adherents refer to for their

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

225

rationalism of simpletons), which explains the severity they have historically very often implied
(their expressions, particularly the violence, are of course irrational).

What makes people religious in practice are banal things like hope for happiness on
earth (which is gradually transmuted into hope for life in a thereafter), hope for better
human relationships, hope for understanding, love, harmony, a woman or man, children;
also, the release from fears, protection from the hardships of life, and of death, release from
guilt and from uncertainty, absolution and guidance. (These are very broad brushstrokes,
but you know what I mean.) Religion makes promises and threatens, capturing ready
victims and then spinning an ever tighter web around them, with expert moves and the help
of its victims themselves (these words may sound harsh, disillusioned; but this is a view,
which has some truth). Religion has psychology, it knows what moves people.
The human being has his or her own intuition of justice. It is not in all people
identical nor of equal intensity, but it is the source of their ability to at all grasp the
concept. This personal intuition of justice may be influenced, one way or another, by
religious or other doctrines - cultural influences may cause a rationalistic or even forcible
reconstruction of the instinct in an individual - but epistemologically it precedes them and
antecedes them. The concept of justice, then, is in all individuals the result of a
compromise between personal insight and socio-cultural pressures, whose power over the
individual depends on the particular combination of desires, fears and guilts which at a
given time determine his or her susceptibility.
All this has apparently little to do with God, but rather more to do with psychology
and sociology! But in truth, since religion takes up so firmly the idea of God, we tend to
associate the two, and usually think distancing ourselves from the former necessitates
distancing ourselves from the latter. Belief in God is theologically conceivable without
belief in a religion; many people have tried to opt for this middle ground. But in practice
the link is rather strong. Resistance to religion arises to the extent that, or as of when, the
promises or threats it makes are regarded as empirically untenable.
What is it we expect from God when we ask him for justice and mercy? Justice:
that we and our loved ones be rewarded for our good deeds and that our enemies be
punished for their bad deeds and be deprived of graceful gifts. Mercy: that we and our
loved ones be given gifts of grace and be forgiven for our bad deeds. When our hearts feel
generous, we understand that God may reward good deeds of our enemies and occasionally
forgive their bad deeds. All this is a basic instinct of humans. On this basis we may pray
for our protection, our sustenance, our happiness, and so forth.
Of course, the concepts involved in such general or specific prayers are complex. There are
many aspects, levels and degrees to them.
Good and bad may be spiritual, mental, physical, emotional - or political, social, economic
or environmental or even esthetic; and may be so to various degrees, directly or indirectly, and
categorically or conditionally. One may cause good or bad to Gods designs, or to oneself, to other
people (individually, in groups or as a species), or even to animals or vegetation (individually, in
groups or as species)298. Furthermore, there may be harmonies and conflicts between all these
beliefs; i.e. a certain naive and superficial approach to textual exegesis. Behind the intolerance,
which is also to be found to some extent in today's Jewish world, is the severity towards self
seemingly demanded by religion (and other puritanisms): this is what causes us to look at others
with hardness.
298
With regard to the mineral world, the issue is debatable. We ordinarily consider concepts of
good or bad as applicable to such objects only in relation to living creatures, or eventually to God.
One might however say, more absolutely, that the destruction of even a stone, is "bad" for it, or that
a gem or a work of art or a technological marvel has an intrinsic "value" as an apogee of the

226

JUDAIC LOGIC
domains - they impinge on each other, naturally and logically, in various ways, and hierarchies must
be set up or identified. Additionally, our perceptions come into play: the objective status of a value
or disvalue is often moot or irrelevant, and our subjective intuitions of them may have more impact.
Likewise, friends and enemies may be real or imagined. These notions basically refer to the
benefit or harm other people cause us (in the various ways just mentioned). But motives and
emotions are involved in such evaluations: issues of love, hatred or indifference, sincerity or
insincerity, on both sides. There are friends or enemies in fact (by virtue of objective impact) and
those of intention (referring to whether they affect us one way or the other deliberately, incidentally
or by accident).
We assume and hope God, the Judge and Arbitrator, sorts all these factors out, and delivers
and enforces a fair decision.

Appeal to God presupposes a belief in good and bad. Zen will say that good and
bad are linked, and its adepts try to see the world neutrally, without such dualist concept. It
is true that the thought of good automatically gives rise to the thought of bad - or at least,
absence of good - by way of outline and contrast. Logically, the concepts can be grounded
in relation to a standard of value, which merely passes the buck to some arbitrary norm,
unless universal values can be identified. But actually, within human beings, these
concepts, good and bad, are very difficult to pinpoint; they are vague, variable, and often
inconsistent. It is more in the way of an instinct, or at best an intuition of appearance, that
we conceive good or bad to apply to something. This is one of the peaks of our conceptual
faculty, this discerning of the unwordable, but no less valuable than sense perception. It is
the dignity and decency of humans.
In relation to God, what humans seek, and what makes them enter and practice
religion, is a set of rules to the game of life, which, if they adhere to them and perform
certain things (in the largest sense), it will be well with them as they wish; and if they do
not, they may expect negative consequences. It is a deal we want to believe in, and are
willing to pay for (whether or not we admit our mercantilism). It is a rationalist demand for
a comprehensible world in which good and bad are each put in its place. Religion comes
along and promises just that, an orderly causality (this is in the case of theist religions - in
the case of religions like Taoism and Buddhism the offer is different, an escape by
transcendence from the good-bad dichotomy). One accepts the doctrine hopefully, and tries
to perceive the world in the prescribed way so as to obtain solace.
Difficulty may arise after a long apprenticeship, when one finds that the rules we
were promised do not hold, and the sequences of good and bad in our lives, whatever they
be for each individual, do not necessarily adhere to the promised program299. At this point,
religion proposes transcendental domains - heaven and hell300. A perception of events
contrary to the expectations raised by the religion, together with a conviction of having
played the game by the rules, may cause a breakdown of faith and the abandonment of

universe. But within such a notion, there would be no degrees or conditions. The good of a thing
would be its unchanged existence; bad for it would be any modification in its being, at which point it
would be another thing, which in turn would have only either-or value-relations to events. As for
God, Whom we conceive as indestructible, and even unchanging (although a Free Agent of
change), the concepts of good or bad are inapplicable to Him personally; at most we can say that
whatever He wills is good, and whatever He wants us (to whom He has allotted some measure of
choice) to will - is good, and not-to-will - is bad.
299
In this context, it is worth quoting George Santayana (d. 1952): "Fanaticism is described as
redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim". It is clear that not everyone reevaluates
their ideological loyalties.
300
Incidentally, the idea of hell is said to have originated in Zoroastrianism, a dualist religion of
the 6th cent. BCE which still has adherents. See Roberts, p. 169.

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

227

religion, or parts thereof. But a vacuum remains, if the world continues to seem irrational a need for fair-play unfulfilled.
The Believers Wager301 is that God exists, and that his or her particular choice of
Religion (or even his/her personally designed religion, or variant of an established
Religion) is the correct one for himself or herself. It is a wager, because the refusal to make
a leap of faith, is itself a leap of faith, into something which must be evaluated too:
What if my religion is true, and I abstain from following it - will I get hurt
and/or will I miss goodies?
And what if my religion is false, and I do follow it - will I mess up my life
and/or will I waste it?
What of other belief-systems on the market - how do they compare, in terms of
credibility and efficacy?
There is a wide-ranging calculus in the decision, which may be referred to as the
essence of theodicy, but ultimately some leap of faith remains unavoidable, in whatever
direction it be.

3.

Faith and Justice.

There seems to be a logical conflict between the concepts of faith and justice. We
have shown earlier, and I think every serious thinker readily admits, Divine law cannot be
proven by experience and reason, but rather depends fundamentally and in larger measure
on pure faith, i.e. on willed belief. If so, how can such law, which inherently in its claim of
origins contains a doubt concerning its own validity, be justly viewed as binding on people
who lack faith in it, or even on people who have faith in it, to the extent of making them
liable to punishment by human court or by God if they do not obey it?
It has only gradually dawned on me that the concept of Divine law arrived at by
open philosophical inquiry - that of an ethic based on respect of Torah tradition, mixed
with attention to factual experience and use of rational faculties - is very different in
character from the concept of mitzvah manifest in the religious population and culture at
large. For the hard-core orthodox Jew, the law makes absolute and incontrovertible
demands; no understanding or tolerance for those who deviate from it out of doubt is in
justice possible, only if at all at best in mercy.
On the one hand: Rabbinic authorities recognize that religious observance strongly
depends on faith, as evidenced by constant exhortations to emunah - and faith logically
implies doubt; and on the other hand: it is a principle of justice, given to at least some
extent within the Talmud itself, that doubt relative to a law exempts one from judgment
under that law. Yet the radical tension between these two positions seems to have gone
unnoticed.
A similar contradiction can more easily be avoided under a system of natural
jurisprudence. In the latter case, most of mankind, or (more precisely) most of a particular
301
This is called Pascal's Wager in histories of philosophy; but since I thought of it
independently and I am sure others have, and a more descriptive name seemed worthwhile, I have
renamed it.

228

JUDAIC LOGIC

society or group of people, experiences revulsion or fear in relation to certain behavior

patterns, and the wish or need to demand of its members certain other patterns. It therefore
imposes its collective will, enacting laws and setting up ways and means for their
enforcement. It does so without having to prove its abstract justice - though it may explain
itself pragmatically, with reference to the common welfare, in order to approach a
consensus and promote voluntary compliance.
Under a system of religious jurisprudence, however, the basis of law is, rather, the
alleged will of God, and a claim to absolute justice would seem necessary. For one would
expect, in a rationalistic perspective, that whatever the Creator chooses to regard as just and give us as His law - must indeed be just; even an abstract concept like justice can
logically have no existence or reality not endowed it by the Creator of all things. But, in a
more humanistic perspective, justice is whatever human beings in general experience or
intuit as just, it being after all they who will be on the receiving end of any blows the law
may entail.
In any case, our sense of justice, and the views proposed by the Talmud as of
Divine origin, would seem to concur that doubt mitigates law. Various pleas of this kind
are possible:
one can plead innocence and claim a doubt that the accused A in fact broke the law
L - or a doubt that the court/judges know or can know that A in fact broke L;
one can plead ignorance and claim a doubt that the accused A knew that L was law,
or that it applied in the situation concerned - or a doubt that the court/judges know
or can know that A knew L was law, or was applicable;
one can plead liberty, and claim a doubt that the law L is a Divine law - or a doubt
that the court/judges know or can know that L is law;
With regard to the first category, Jewish law relies on the testimony of reliable
witnesses coupled with circumstantial evidence to remove reasonable doubt (though, is
there not usually a small drop of doubt left?). With regard to the second category, Jewish
law requires the forewarning of the criminal just prior to the crime (though, what if he
disbelieved them?). With regard to the third category, the most radical objection, the court
can always in practice pursue judgment notwithstanding such doubts, on the basis of
natural jurisprudence (that is, social necessity and power). Modern law, in the 20th century
Western countries, follows more or less similar lines (very broadly speaking, of course).
If any and every degree of doubt was taken seriously in practice, in the name of an
ideal of perfect justice, there would be total anarchy, the antithesis of the rule of law which
makes justice possible. Nevertheless, our discussion here is not about realistic wisdom, and
what precisely to regard (or not regard) as extenuating circumstances, but perhaps a logical
critique of fierce fanatics. There is sufficient cause for doubt, it seems to me, in any
ethical/juridical doctrine, to exclude the justification of extremely judgmental attitudes and
blind hatred, except of course where obviously heinous crimes have been committed.
Although doubt and justice are somewhat in friction, some uncertainty would seem
to be essential to the operation of human freewill, on which the concept of justice depends;
and so in some respects justice is fundamentally impossible without the existence of doubt.
This paradoxical unity in duality may be illustrated in the following remarks.

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

229

If, as some commentators seem to claim, Divine judgment occurs through the
operation of an actual Heavenly Court, in the presence of the accused and with a chance for
him to defend himself, why do we never remember it? In earthly justice, a prison inmate
knows why he is there (ignoring Kafkaesque situations); but, in Divine justice, the
sufferings we experience in this world (I do not know what happens in the next) are rarely
understood by us, and even if we feel guilty about this or that past deed, and guess that
maybe our sufferings relate to such past deeds, we never remember an actual trial up
above. Perhaps, simply, the uncertainty is part and parcel of the punishment; we surely do
not worry about it when it is good things that are happening to us.
Why is reward/punishment for virtue/vice not immediate? For if every moment is a
new creation, as some commentators claim, it would seem that the person concerned is not
one and the same individual today (at the time of the deed) and tomorrow (at the time of its
retribution), but at every moment a new creature. Indeed, often we sin with selfish and
cavalier disregard for future consequences, regarding that future person as another than
oneself. But evidently, Judaism does not see this issue as a major problem, and explains the
delay granted sinners as Divine mercy designed to give him time to repent. And the delay
of reward? perhaps to accumulate credit for bigger and better things!
A thought I had in Tsfat, in the summer of 1991, during a study of Moshe
Cordoveros work, Tamar Devorah. The question I had posed was: if God keeps the sinner
alive to give him time to repent, yet God knows the future and so knows in advance who
will repent and who will not, why does He keep the latter alive at all? The answer I had
proposed was as follows: if God did not keep the impenitent sinners alive, then all those
remaining alive could assume themselves to be future penitents, and would be less in a
hurry to improve themselves. Similarly, with regard to the doctrine that sinners are
rewarded by God in this world so that He owes them nothing good in the next, while nice
guys and gals are treated harshly in this world, so that God can give them only good in the
next - if this principle were applied consistently and exclusively, one could draw inferences
from peoples happiness or suffering.
In brief, then, God has to confuse the issues and cloud things, in order to maintain
the doubts and mystery which make freedom of choice possible and willpower necessary.

4.

Legislated Belief.

The Judaic concept of legislated belief is hard to understand. I know that similar
objections have been put forward by others in relation to laws commanding love (as in
love the Lord your God); though it is clear enough to me that while one cannot force
oneself to love at will, one can perhaps over time by sensitive behavior teach oneself to do
so. In contrast, belief is something more fundamental from the epistemological point of
view.
Human belief and knowledge naturally arise through the collective impact of
perceptual and conceptual appearances. Concrete and abstract phenomena present
themselves to our consciousness, and over time we try to sort them out (compare and
contrast them) and make sense of them (weed out contradictions, interrelate data, and fill
gaps). At any given moment in ones life, one cannot honestly ab initio characterize any
given appearance, viewed in isolation from its contexts, as a reality (or truth) or an
illusion (or falsehood). It is only within the total context of all phenomena one has
encountered that one can evaluate any one of these phenomena, and consider it as part of

230

JUDAIC LOGIC

reality or as a distortion thereof, or as still problematic. And of course, since the context is
continually changing, these evaluations vary with time and can be reversed.
The naive mind, the person who has not reflected on epistemological issues, just
takes the processes involved for granted, and believes whatever he/she happens to believe,
moved by the natural impact of impressions, including those determined by emotional
forces and those emanating purposely or unintentionally from the surrounding society, or
from particular milieux therein, to varying degrees. To such people (and we all to varying
extents fall in this class) there is no clear distinction between belief and knowledge. Or,
more accurately, for such people, knowledge is more determined by belief, than belief is as
it should be by knowledge.
To a philosophically inclined person, knowledge is like a fragile plant, something
which changes and grows and must be delicately nurtured and taken care of. There is never
any question of anticipating reality, other than gently and tentatively; one may well ask
questions, but one listens to the answers, patiently letting reality speak for itself, reveal
itself, at its own pace. At no time does one consider the way things present themselves to
be final, or try to force such phenomena to remain rigid or to move certain ways rather than
others.
But some people, through pain, cowardice or laziness, try to impose on themselves
(or on others, by means of political, cultural or religious dictatorships) certain beliefs; and
they illegitimately label these knowledge, stealing a word which does not apply.
Belief differs from knowledge in that the former is to some extent an attitude,
normally determined by the natural force of presentations, but also capable of being taken
up as an act of will, in which case we call it faith. Knowledge, in contrast, is a more
normative concept, signifying that the proposed result did not arise through mere natural
inertia, and certainly not through forced belief (whether against reason and experience, or
in their interstices or beyond their horizons), but was to some extent pondered, developed
with reference to logical standards, validated as far as possible in the given context. Thus,
belief might be viewed as a more generic concept, which includes everything - faith,
emotionally-determined belief, externally-imposed belief, common/naive knowing and
scientific knowledge. The latter two differ only in degree of reflection they imply.
In this perspective, direct revelation refers to extraordinary presentations of
phenomena by God to certain humans; and prophecy is the kind of consciousness
associated with such special events, be they verbal or include sounds and images, whether
seemingly occurring in the external domain or dream-like. Indirect revelation is the report
or hearsay about such phenomena. Whereas direct revelation naturally causes belief, and is
in principle a fully legitimate source of knowledge, indirect revelation is more of an issue
in these respects, and requires more careful evaluation. Some people believe in indirect
revelations easily (particularly coming from certain teachers they trust), while others take
convincing and still others are skeptical on principle.
Now, Judaism (and similarly other religions) includes, not only a certain beliefsystem, but a number of commanded beliefs. For instance, Exod. 20:2 ,I am the Lord
your God, is interpreted by the Rabbis as a Mitzvah to believe (constantly) in the
existence and various attributes of Hashem (e.g. sovereignty, mercy, justice), and His
various powers and achievements (e.g. creation, providence, liberation from Egypt, gift of
Torah). Similarly, the Shema Israel, Deut. 6:4, is a Mitzvah to believe in Hashems utter
Unity (despite the apparent plurality and variety of His attributes and actions in the world).
There are also negative commandments relating to belief - such as Exod. 20:3, the Mitzvah
to disbelieve in idols or gods other than Hashem, and Num. 15:39, and dont go touring

LOGICAL ASPECTS OF EMUNAH

231

after your heart and after your eyes, which is interpreted as a Mitzvah to avoid heretical
thoughts and immoral fantasies.
This is hard to understand, from a logical point of view. Normally, what one
conceives as having-to-be-done is determined by what one wants to achieve (ones
purposes, or more broadly, values) and by the information at hand concerning relevant
causal relations (which tells one what means are likely to lead to ones ends). In the
construction of a natural ethic, neutral (or alethic) propositions logically precede all
normative propositions; there cannot be normative propositions about factual beliefs, for if
a thing is already commonly known as true, an imperative to believe it would be logically
redundant (except for a general call to intellectual honesty), and if it is not evidently true,
then there is no informational basis for an imperative about it.
Perhaps that is why the Torah simply says I am the Lord your God and the Lord
is One, in the way of announcing facts rather than in the way of commanding beliefs. As
for the above-mentioned command concerning idols, it says literally you shall not have
gods other than Me; it does not refer explicitly to belief, but seems rather to warn against
certain behavior patterns. Lastly, the passage about the heart and eyes is rather vague,
and might well refer to actions following-up on heretical lines of thought or immoral
imaginings, rather than primarily to any cognitive processes.
In other words, the view that such Torah statements are commands to believe or
disbelieve something is not inevitable, nor really logically tenable. Rather they must be
viewed as positive or negative commands for certain courses of action (other than beliefs),
which logically follow from having certain beliefs or tolerances. In this way, the mind
retains its intellectual freedom, which is the precondition of its honesty and sincerity, and
which is a facet of its dignity - and yet the person is in no way freed in action from the
ethical obligations and prohibitions the Torah imposes, such submission to God being also
a facet of human dignity. Liberalism is not necessarily libertinism.
We could conclude here, and say the following. The intent of the codifiers of such
laws of belief (such as the Rambam), was clearly to protect weaker minds from the assaults
of misleading philosophies and irresistible temptations. Doubt is always a danger, and was
to be rejected forcefully, without risking any untoward slippage. But, granting our above
arguments, the epistemological and logical background of this sort of codification is
incorrect and unstable. Furthermore, incidentally, its psychological effect is not always
ideal. Openness is right, and healthy too.
However, upon further reflection, a more even-handed conclusion is possible.
Introspection shows that in the course of religious living, there are often moments of doubt,
when everything conspires to make us doubt Gods existence, or His mercy, or His justice,
or whatever. Things may be going so badly, that one wonders whether He is at all
interested in helping us or whether He knows how to judge correctly or whether He is at all
there to do so; or one may view Him as ones tormentor and wish one could appeal to
Someone else, some higher or more sympathetic power, for help; and so forth. In such
circumstances, it is indeed very useful to have a law of belief (in God, in Gods Oneness,
etc.) to hold on to, so that, through fear, even though not at the time through pondered
conviction, one keeps to the right path.
One may even tell oneself: no matter how bad things look, I will always trust in my
own essential goodness or sanity, or in my wifes loyalty, or whatever. Such resolutions
have pragmatic value and make it possible for us to transcend the vagaries of daily
experience. Epistemologically, they rely on the fact that there is a hierarchy of truths; some
truths are more certain than others. Thus, for instance, in logic, the laws of identity, of noncontradiction and of the excluded-middle, and certain other principles, are given priority

232

JUDAIC LOGIC

over all others, so that if ever things look bad, it is not these laws which are put in doubt
but all other interpretations of the disturbing phenomena at hand.
In this light, an ethical law of belief is quite conceivable, like a protective message
from the past to the future. God may know that I am about to enter a turbulent experience
(and everyone does, sooner or later), and forewarns me: today, you know that I exist and
that I am One, etc. - but tomorrow, you will have the momentary illusion that these truths
are unjustified; so, I advise you to hold fast onto them come what may. Such resolutions
are not necessarily contrary to logic, and in no way demean the intelligence of humankind.
In this way, mitzvot relating to belief are made reasonable and conceivable; they do not tell
us to believe (or not believe) in the way of blind fanaticism, but rather protect our
knowledge from unfortunate erosions.
For these reasons, by the way, the Mitzvot relating to belief which we have listed
here are regarded as constant; that is, applicable non-stop. Surely, it is not humanly
possible to literally always remember the Sabbath or Amaleks enmity, or never forget
Amaleks enmity. The human mind can only focus on so much at a time, and must
therefore allow some objects of consciousness to at least recede into the background, if not
disappear entirely, for a while every so often; we must also sleep. Therefore, such temporal
expressions must refer, strictly-speaking, to an occasional (though as frequent as possible)
or conditional (in all the appropriate circumstances) performance.
In the case of our laws of belief, they are comparable to a defensive weapon one
carries on ones person at all times, not knowing when the enemy will strike, ready for all
eventualities. The weapon is not constantly in use, but it is invariably ready for action. Of
course, our resolve to fall back on these fixed beliefs in times of doubt, colors our whole
existence, in the long run determining all our choices; for the belief in God and all its
implications have undoubtedly broad and deep influences on the human psyche and
destiny.

EPILOGUE

233

15. EPILOGUE.

1.

Motives of the Present Research.

Judaic Logic: A Formal Analysis of Biblical, Talmudic and Rabbinic Logic is

not the work of a Talmudist, but that of a logician. The author, who made significant
contributions to various fields of (secular) logic in his previous work, felt qualified in that
capacity to analyze and assess, in novel ways, the logical processes found in Judaism. A
logician can claim to understand Talmudic logic, without claiming more than minimal
knowledge of the Talmud. A Talmudist certainly has much greater knowledge of the
Talmuds content, and by virtue of regular practice may well be a far superior practitioner
of Talmudic logic. But a logician has the advantages of theoretical knowledge and the habit
of apprehending the formal aspects of thought; he may not take into consideration all the
forms of reasoning used in the Talmud, but he can more deeply comprehend those which
he does encounter.
In an absolute, normative sense, the term logic must refer to something universal.
Logical mental processes are forms of thought which take us closest to truth in a given
context of raw data. The science of Logic is a record of such forms combined with attempts
to explain their distinctive efficacy. The idea that there are logics particular to cultures is
not a denial of universality, not a claim that different peoples or periods are subject to
different epistemologies. A given culture may be defined and measured by the sum total of
its experiences and conceptual insights, as well as imaginations and actions; and this
collection of factors differs from culture to culture. Logical practice and theory are aspects
of culture, and are bound in specific cultures to differ in scope and emphasis. The
underlying human apparatus of knowledge remains essentially the same, but it may
develop in various directions and to different degrees. Of course, judgments are feasible;
relativism is untenable. If different practices or views of logic are found not to be in
harmony, an evaluation is necessary: there must be some kind of ignorance or error on one
side or the other or both.
The present study was undertaken with three motives in mind:
1. To elicit from Talmudic logic any information of value to general logic. Contrary to
what might be thought, secular logicians have not exhausted their field. The science of
logic is an ongoing enterprise, which, in spite of the great successes of Aristotle, Philo,
Bacon, Mill, Russell and Lewis, still has much to achieve. Its mandate is nothing less
than a thorough observation and evaluation of the forms of human thought (conscious or
unconscious, commonplace or rare), and their assimilation in an all-embracing
epistemology. As it happens, at least two forms of argument which were emphasized by
R. Ishmael and his colleagues, namely a-fortiori argument and reconciliation of
conflicting theses, have received little or no attention from Western logicians so far.
2. To provide Talmudists with more developed logical tools and techniques. Although
many teachers and students of the Talmud possess very impressive powers of reasoning,

234

JUDAIC LOGIC

they are apparently rarely aware of the abstract aspects of their thinking processes and
of the need to formally validate them. They are able to formulate or follow enormously
complex arguments, in their heads, orally, without recourse even to pen and paper; but
would be unable to capture and explain the underlying patterns which ultimately justify
the conclusions. Apart from certain stock classifications, they remain suspended at the
level of content, untrained in formalization. Such a pragmatic approach can yield
valuable results, but a systematic approach is bound to be more efficient and is more
certain to avoid error.
3. To focus the debate between science and religion on epistemological rather than
ontological issues. The integration of our secular knowledge and spiritual beliefs is a
fundamental need of the human mind and culture; the alternative of
compartmentalization involves a sort of mental or cultural forcing, and can only be a
temporary measure. Conflicts between experience and reason, on the one hand, and
faith, on the other, can best be diffused by a dispassionate consideration of the
underlying logical issues. Many disagreements can be harmonized, by showing at the
least that the sides are simply alternatives in a disjunctive proposition, which though
they may inductively be of varying probability are deductively on equal footing, for all
practical purposes a matter of personal choice.
To what extent these goals have been fulfilled, readers will judge. In addition to
these theoretical purposes, the author had a personal motive, namely the review of his own
religious commitment. For this reason, and in order to make clear to readers that the work
has gone through a process of evolution, and was not a pronouncement of preconceived
dogmas, it was necessary to write the book in such a way as to allow the various
archaeological layers of eventual thought to remain visible, so far as possible within the
limits of consistency. During most of the writing period, the books title was to include the
word Reflections, to signify return again and again to a topic, under the influence of new
discoveries or insights in other areas. Transparency makes the process as important as the
result. The result is, it is hoped, a lesson in independent thought; meaning, not invention,
but free research of the facts and possibilities, commitment to reality and acceptance of
eventual doubts.
Jewish tradition asserts that such intellectual explorations may be spiritually dangerous.
Going too deeply into questions is likely to increase sources of doubt, and complicate spiritual life
(with inner conflicts and lack of social uniformity), if not cause sin and apostasy. To be sure,
philosophers have not historically been happy and well-adjusted people, or shining spiritual
examples. But one might also wonder how high a spiritual life based on imaginary certainties,
though easier and less risky, more pleasant and impressive, takes one. Knowledge and knowledge of
ones ignorance are tests. Like all other tests, one may fail them - or pass them. It may be that failing
them, one is worse off than having not taken them; but passing them, one is better off than having
not taken them. In any case, to advocate that life be faced with open eyes, is not to look for trouble.
Life, for everyone, is rife with opportunities for religious doubts; surely it is better to learn to take
things of that sort in stride, than to rigidly resist until one day perhaps some major experience or
insight shatters the whole defensive structure. A spiritual commitment out of pure faith,
transcending all empirical and rational forces, and of course emotional forces, would seem more
stable in the long run. And that presupposes a certain intellectual openness and flexibility.

EPILOGUE

2.

235

Conclusions of Our Study.

Now, we have already effectively listed, in the Abstract and table of Contents at
the beginning of this book, and we need not repeat them here, the various topics covered
by our inquiry. Our task, here, is to draw some sort of final conclusions.

1. With regard to aspects of Judaic logic which can enrich Western logic, we have
extracted the following material:

302

Of historical interest is evidence in the Torah (and Nakh), as well as in Talmud (and
other Rabbinic writings), of use and awareness of various complex forms of reasoning,
in some cases well before their assimilation by Western literature or philosophy.
Particularly noteworthy are the following:
There is clear evidence in the Torah of knowledge of the two laws of adduction. They
are not merely used there, but are expressed as principles (Deut. 13:2-4, 18:21-22);
however, the principles are not formulated in purely formal terms, as general logical
methods, but in relation specifically to the evaluation of prophecies and prophets. In any
case, this antedates by centuries, if not millennia, Western consciousness (though
probably not, use) of adductive procedures. Adduction is commonly practiced, and ably
so, in Talmud and other Rabbinic writings, but (as far as this author knows) it does not
receive theoretical attention.
On the other hand, we find in the Talmud another important inductive practice, with a
considerable measure of self-awareness (developed more fully in later Rabbinic
writings), namely, reconciliation of conflicting theses (kushya, terutz). This process
plays a major role in Talmudic discourse, and is counted as among the 13 principles of
hermeneutics. It is found used later in Christian (and supposedly, in Moslem) debates of
the Middle Ages, and acknowledged in Western philosophy in the concept of dialectic
(thesis, antithesis, synthesis), but has otherwise not received due focus and formal
treatment in Western logic. The author of the present work has in his previous work,
Future Logic, proposed a thorough formal analysis.
A-fortiori argument is often, and properly, used in the Torah and Nakh (we have
indicated some 30 cases); however, though certain words recur in these contexts, the
terminology is not uniform or exclusive, and there is no evidence of self-consciousness
in this practice. In Talmud we find a very frequent resort to a-fortiori, as well as a
specialized terminology and the awareness of such argument as a distinct class. This
practice continues in subsequent Rabbinic writings, which furthermore develops a
theoretical understanding of the argument, including distinction between positive and
negative moods; however, though near-formal, this understanding is not entirely formal,
being expressed specially in terms of the stringency or leniency of legal/ethical
prescriptions, prohibitions and indulgences. We have in this volume proposed a more
formal analysis of the argument302.
There is further evidence of logic in the Tanakh, in the sense that the characters within
the narrative make if-then- statements which suggest underlying reasoning processes,

That analysis constitutes the only bit of really fundamental research, of value to generic
logic, in the present work.

236

JUDAIC LOGIC

but (so far as this author has noticed, apart from the above mentioned) these processes
are not very transparent, and so difficult to identify precisely and classify. Furthermore,
contrary to the claims of Jewish tradition, there is no textual evidence that the
hermeneutic principles were known, or that Talmudic-style debate was engaged in, in
Biblical days. Of course, the Bible is not intended as a manual on logic and need not
have reported such matters. But the linguistic evidence in the case of a-fortiori, the only
identifiable process for which we have data, tends toward such conclusion, especially
when we compare later, Talmudic, terminology to the Biblical, and consider the
evidence of development from Mishnah to Gemara.
We find in the Talmud, and later Rabbinic discourse, highly developed deductive
procedures in the field of ethical logic: the various kinds of ethical303 statements, issues
of awareness, motive, intention, attitude, transfers of ethical modality from genus to
species of action or vice-versa, are clearly considered and understood by Talmudic
participants and thereafter. To what extent such factors were assimilated by the
legislators of other nations in the same period(s) of history has not been investigated by
this author; but judging from the comparatively deontic slant of Jewish culture (later
transmitted into the Christian and Moslem cultures), and from the fact that Western
logic has only recently began to study the formalities of ethical logic (under the name
practical or applied logic), one may assume that the Talmud was breaking new ground.
Finally, the Talmud is replete with other forms of reasoning, notably opposition,
eduction, categorical syllogism, apodosis, reductio ad absurdum, hypothetical
syllogism, dilemmatic argument, argument by analogy, generalization, particularization,
and so forth. These are frequently and skillfully used, and with a considerable degree of
consciousness of their workings, but one would hesitate to say that the participants had
engaged in any formal studies.
One may be surprised by the Rabbis ignorance of formal logic. One would have supposed that
the works of Aristotle would have found their way to Judea soon after the conquests of
Alexander the Great; or at the latest by Talmudic times, considering the degree to which Hellenic
culture (or, more precisely, Hellenistic culture) had by then permeated the so-called civilized
world. Indeed, many Rabbis are reputed by the Talmud itself to have delved in Greek
knowledge; but while they may have absorbed some of its rationalism and empiricism in a
general way, they do not seem to have grasped its logical formalism. Even later Rabbinic
writings, such as Maimonides, which are clearly more systematic than the Talmud, seem devoid
of any really formal approach to methodology, despite the developments in logical science of the
Scholastic period, to which many Jews contributed, at least as translators of Greek works from
Arabic (often via Hebrew) to Latin. All this suggests the insulation of Jewish culture from its
surroundings, which was indeed willed by the Rabbis, and it demonstrates in particular the
relative independence of the developments in Judaic logic.

Of scientific interest to todays logicians are, especially, two of the above mentioned
factors of Judaic logic, namely: dialectic logic and a-fortiori logic. We would suggest
that these are, if not original and special (nothing in logic can be truly unheard of, since
it is ontologically an aspect of the world we live in and epistemologically an innate
capacity of the human mind), certainly sooner and more fully used, developed and
studied in Jewish culture than in any other. More important still, is the fact that they
have not till now been seriously considered by modern logicians. The present author
claims to be the first ever, in 1989-90, to develop a formal theory of induction
(factorization, factor selection and formula revision), which elucidated the mechanics of
303

Needless to say, the term ethical is used here with reference to a mode of modality, which
covers legal statements as well as others.

EPILOGUE

237

reconciliation of conflicting theses; and the first, in 1991-92, to deal with a-fortiori
argument in a thorough manner.
Yet dialectic is a fundamental process of all-embracing epistemological significance,
being the way the mind responds to the continual contradictions of our world, from the
ever-changing impressions at the perceptual level, through concept modulation, to the
repeated adjustments of abstract scientific theories. As for a-fortiori, although a
comparatively specific part of mans logical arsenal, it is still of considerable
epistemological importance, allowing us to maintain consistency in the quantitative
(degree) aspect of our concepts. In any case, logicians are still bound to consider such
processes, just as the mathematician is bound to consider curved spaces or binomial
equations.
On the negative side of the ledger, we may mention the following phenomena, which
are of interest to science and history only as examples of how very far from logical
thought people, individually and collectively, are sometimes able to go304.
We may first note that Talmudic and later Rabbis were far from all-powerful or
omniscient in logic. This comment would be redundant, were it not for the mythical
dimensions they are given by Jewish lore to justify the finality and immutability of
Talmudic and subsequent decrees. These people did occasionally - individually, if not
always collectively305 - make unconscious errors of logic (even if they were very often
skilled practitioners); and furthermore, their theoretical baggage in this field was
incomplete and faulty (though admittedly not negligible). In some cases, the practical
errors and theoretical gaps seem conscious; and we may suspect them to have been
made with a manipulative intent, to confuse people and thereby impose predetermined
legal outcomes on them.
Most shocking is the considerable number of fallacious thought processes engaged
in and defended by Talmudic and later Rabbis. This refers to the paralogisms
involved in many Rabbinic hermeneutic principles and practices, and also to the
intimidation used to support them. The major cause of such faulty thinking was the
Rabbis ignorance of the formal method of logical reflection (which they were
apparently too proud to learn from the Greeks). Consequently, processes which should
have been recognized as inductive or even unreasonable were ascribed deductive value.
Lacking objective and universally valid tools of evaluation306, the Rabbis opted instead
for disloyal methods: cutting corners; obscuring uncertainties and antinomies by using
overly tortuous and long-winded arguments, without terminal organization307; claiming
Divine sanction for their arcane modes of thought; and parrying criticism by means of
irrelevant accusations and threats.

304

In the way of a "rogues' gallery" in a museum of logic! Such exhibits are still interesting to
logicians, for the reflections they stimulate.
305
Individually is bad enough. Though collective review provides a corrective mechanism, the
fact of individual error demonstrates the fallibility of the participants, and therefore the possibility
that the mechanism is not invariably fool-proof.
306
That the Rabbis sensed their thought forms to be shaky, was implicit in their interdicting
use of these forms without authoritative license, as well as in their need to appeal to a Deus ex
machina for support.
307
Finally ordering and clarifying, if not simplifying, their arguments, so as to verify them.

238

JUDAIC LOGIC

2. With regard to aspects of Western logic which can enrich Judaic logic, the following
may be said:
To begin with, it must be understood that there is nothing foreign, i.e. non-Jewish or
anti-Jewish, in the science of logic. It may have historically been developed by nonJews, with Aristotle, a Greek, discovering formalization (that is, putting symbols in
place of specific terms, in order to verify the universality of a thought process,
independently of its content) and the laws of thought (identity, non-contradiction,
exclusion of the middle), and studying the categorical oppositions, eductions and
syllogisms; and various other individuals, some of them Christians or of other
persuasions, following suit and investigating the same in more detail or other forms of
reasoning, such as hypothetical and disjunctive argument, inductive logic, and so forth.
But the ethnic or religious identity of these people had no pertinence (any more than it
would in medicine or engineering).
The purpose of logic research is not and was never to prove or disprove something
about God or any religion. The goal was and is, simply and innocently: to understand
and validate human cognition, to know when one is right and when one is wrong, to
know what constitutes evidence and what may be inferred from it, to avoid errors and to
avoid being misled, to exercise intelligence and defend oneself against foolishness.
Most Rabbis have had a phobia towards Philosophy. But this is a straw man.
Philosophy in its purest sense, limited to epistemology and ontology (and excluding
mere metaphysical speculations, personal reflections on life, psychology, ethics,
politics, and all such relatively literary productions), is a neutral investigation, whose
results are unpredictable. Philosophy is not a particular doctrine, like Judaism - it is, at
its best, an honest, unprejudiced search for truth, or (if truth is not to be found) at least
an admission of ignorance. It is open to knowledge wherever it is to be found; and those
who think otherwise have not understood it. The science of Logic, in particular, is a key
discipline in this search for truth; neither quite epistemology nor ontology, though a part
of both, it stands at the interface between them, as their motor and regulating
mechanism, at once partly their source and by feedback partly their outcome too.
To say that something is true, or untrue, and to keep piously insisting on it, does not make it so;
there has to be a convincing argument. Likewise, ad hominem praise or accusation, whether
correct or incorrect, and hopes or fears as to the moral or social consequences of information,
have no ultimate bearing on truth-value. Despite all efforts by the Rabbinic establishment to
interdict or ignore enlightened research and reflection, they have historically not succeeded in
preventing the statistically manifest diminution in belief and observance among ordinary Jews308.
This conclusively proves the futility of intellectual arrogance and dictatorship, and of an ostrich
policy. There was a failure on the part of our clerics to meet the challenge of rational and
empirical truth head-on, and work intelligently, and with respect for their opponents and their
flock, on the effective solution of real problems. We are all in the same boat; the problems
considered by secular logic, philosophy and science, are not goy problems but human problems,
for all of us to take into consideration. They cannot be by-passed or waved-off, they remain
applicable to all human cognition, to all claims to knowledge. Left without convincing
validation, any claim to knowledge is effectively invalidated.

308

Looking at the past couple of hundred years. As for the Baal Teshuvah (Returnees)
movement of my generation and after, it has been highly overrated and seems, to my prejudiced
eyes, anyway to have peaked and be pettering out. I was part of it myself, and can report my
disappointment. Expectations of higher consciousness and of moral and social improvement were
not fulfilled. Much more could be said on this, but it is irrelevant to our discussion.

EPILOGUE

239

Now, what we have tried to convey in the present work, to students and teachers of
Talmud and Jewish law willing to think things through honestly and intelligently, is a
firm grounding in logic. This means, first of all, a special way of looking at intellectual
issues, which may be characterized as eidetic, being an effort to consider above all the
formal aspects of any argument, and try to objectively clarify the processes involved in
it by means of algorithms, so as to determine its continuity or gaps, and be able to
estimate its abstract validity. Content is secondary, and may be affected by or affect the
passions, clouding judgment; what counts primarily is form. More important than piety
is the psychological attitude of openness and fair-mindedness, a willingness to accept
whatever reality has to offer; there has to also be a will to pursue truth further and
deeper, and not be satisfied with convenient superficialities and complacent stereotypes,
a willingness to repeatedly test and revise ones own current ideas.
Secondly, there is a need to learn the specifics of existing theoretical logic, and why not
when necessary try to make further developments in the field, so as to be prepared and
have the technical means for the job at hand. Logic theory and practice are to concepts
in general, what algebra and arithmetic, respectively, are to numerical concepts. In the
domain of religion, as in any other, one cannot expect, without adequate training, to
avoid the pitfalls and limits of ordinary thinking; one must adopt a more conscious and
advanced methodology. Furthermore, the pursuit of coherence and profundity calls for
periodic bouts of systematization; the various elements of our apparent knowledge must
be ordered, and their interrelationships clarified and judiciously checked. Dubious forms
of reasoning must be dispassionately identified as such, and ultimately rejected if they
cannot be improved upon, without yielding to intimidation. These are obvious
instructions, but always worth reminding.
Lastly, we may address a message to Talmudists, exegetes, and Jewish lawmakers. The
spiritual yearnings of human beings will surely never cease, but they may well be dulled
by the arrested development of religion. Torah scholars, rather than trying to inhibit
secular education, ought to rather encourage all knowledge and respond creatively to the
virtue of enlightenment and hunger for more knowledge that it generates. It is evident
that the thinkers who produced the Talmud greatly enjoyed themselves; they were, in
their time, at the cutting edge of intellectual development. Men like the Rif, the
Rambam, particularly through his Mishneh Torah, or Joseph Caro, through his Shulchan
Arukh, further enriched and perpetuated Judaism, because they had the courage to
rethink the Talmud, summarizing and ordering its results, using methods which in their
respective epochs were more modern. If the approaches used in Judaism in the past are
not again updated - today, tomorrow - then the enterprise is at a dead end.
Life is movement, life is participation. Spiritual guides cannot just re-enact the intellectual
adventures of their predecessors, they must rekindle the flame and produce light visible to their
contemporaries. The Jewish market is not buying, simply because the goods offered are rather
dusty and shabby. The impasse Judaism finds itself in today is due in large measure to an
intellectual bankruptcy, a tendency to aloofness and sclerosis. Mimicry of the style and ideas of
past achievers is not enough, there has to be a contribution relevant to present levels of
education. Many would-be defenders of the Faith seem merely to be trying partake in the glory
of famous persons (very humbly, of course) and project an image of piety (for the social
dividends). But most people are not fooled by posturing; they demand more challenging and
inspiring products, which they do not have to pretend interest for, in a sort of Emperors New
Clothes frame of mind. Not all present production falls into such weary categories; the
innovative work of R. Adin Steinsaltz, for instance, does not.

240

JUDAIC LOGIC

The task now, we here suggest, is to systematize, not the content of the Talmud and
subsequent Jewish law, but their reasoning processes. It is not a matter of organizing
and ordering the conclusions of past legislators, nor even of identifying in an abstract
manner the categories and principles of Judaic hermeneutics and heuristics; but to
stringently clarify and evaluate, step by step, like in a computer program, every single
argument put forward by these legislators, for each step indicating the kind of process
involved309.
A major finding of the present work is the extent to which Talmudic/Rabbinic
logic is inductive, rather than deductive. This means that conclusions drawn by the
legislators are much more dependent on knowledge-context and technical skill than
traditionally assumed, and therefore more subject to review and likely to need
revision310. On the deductive side, in any case, a great many of the arguments are
enthymemes (they are abridged, excluding obvious factors); wherever there are
discontinuities, a clear distinction must be made between given premises or conclusions
and propositions assumed to fill the gaps. Wherever, eventually, mistakes or weaknesses
are spotted, they must be freely admitted without regard for the prestige of the source,
without presuming against all evidence that some unknown data or insight motivated the
problematic statement, and undaunted by covert or overt threats, by clerics, of Divine
retribution (confident that God approves of truthfulness).
Another major finding of this study is the extent to which Talmudic/Rabbinic logic
is fallacious. We may no longer, today, tolerate fuzzy logic, with regard to the
foundations of religions methodology or with regard to its routine arguments. These
issues must be considered with an impartial and steady eye.
First, with regard to the grounding of Talmudic/Rabbinic method. It is reasonable that
whatever methods of interpretation are ultimately adopted to elicit ordinary laws from
the Torah, if those methods are themselves claimed to be based on Torah text, the
reading of them therein must be literal and obvious to everyone. That is, while nonmethodological laws can conceivably be derived from the proof-text in weird and
wonderful ways, methodological laws cannot (without circularity) be similarly
justified, but must be clearly explicit in the text, if not obvious by natural means.
This important logical precondition applies, to start with, to the reading of
constitutional laws, like the law giving legislative authority to the judges, the law of
majority ruling, the law about neither expanding nor diminishing the law, and so forth.
With regard to the hermeneutic principles, other than a-fortiori and adduction (which are
both natural, as well as Biblical), there is no evidence for them in the written Torah. The
claim that they are part of the oral Torah is not an argument: that there is an oral
tradition seems sociologically likely and is hinted at in the text; but whether such a
tradition originally contained these specific, or any, hermeneutic principles is
impossible to establish.
Second, with regard to Talmudic/Rabbinic rhetoric. (a) When the illogic of certain
forms of thought used traditionally is demonstrated, we are told that the hermeneutic
principles are not really a logic, but a Divinely decreed way to decode the Torah. On the
other hand, if we look at actual Talmudic/Rabbinic discourse, it is clearly designed to
309

Saying, for examples, "this is a conversion, of A to I", "this is a syllogism, 2/EAE", "this is a
simple constructive dilemma ", "this is an a-fortiori argument, and here is its major premise, and
that is its middle term, etc." , "this is a generalization, from O to E".
310
This is not a gratuitous statement; I have often enough (mostly on Sabbaths, however,
when note-taking was impossible!) come across arguments in Talmud study sessions which I could
not consider valid.

EPILOGUE

241

appear as a process of rational argument yielding a convincing result. They cannot have
it both ways. (b) The illogic of traditional argument is masked in various ways. Terms
and doctrines are loosely defined, and used in incompatible ways in different contexts
as convenient (i.e. not by virtue of formally demonstrable distinctions)311. Corners are
cut, ostensibly for the sake of brevity, but actually to get away with fake reasoning.
Arguments are long-winded, with many side-digressions, with the effective premises
and the conclusion kept as far apart as possible, so that the lack of connection or even
contradiction between them is well hidden. There is no honest effort at transparency. (c)
When one has Reason and Truth on ones side, there is no felt need to get heavy and
use intimidation. Yet religious authorities freely accuse people who say or do scientific
things of being apikorsim312 and threaten them with loss of heaven for raising doubts
concerning religion. One might suspect that such accusers are unsure of their own
arguments, since they resort to such techniques.
There has to be a continual and sincere effort on our part to review and maintain both
internal consistency, with Judaic texts themselves (with the data properly hierarchized),
and external consistency, with secular knowledge (again, taking into account the
latters degrees of probability). Logic is something universal, which cannot be
ignored or overridden. If there is an inconsistency in knowledge, at any level and
between any two parts thereof, it must be taken seriously and resolved if possible,
without prejudice one way or the other. Any revision called on by strict logic, in a given
context, must be accepted. This is to guarantee truth; something is true, not merely
because it is said to be, but by virtue of the quantity and quality of effort undertaken in
honestly establishing it as such. Where an act of faith is required, so well and good; but
it must be recognized as such, and not falsely claimed to be an act of empirical or
rational cognition.
Judaism can only gain, in scope and strength, from such a programme, both in general
credibility and in specific content. For such thorough analysis would very probably
bring to light problems, the attempts at solution of which would generate new and
important insights, and might even make possible considerable revisions of the law by
the established authorities themselves313. The work required can only be carried out by
highly-educated and superior intellects, people expert equally in Talmud and Rabbinic
law, logic and philosophy, and the special sciences. These would be the true Rambams
and Joseph Caros of the day, those who would ultimately inspire the Jewish people
anew.
3. With regard, finally, to our third stated goal, that of promoting more harmony between
secular science and philosophy, on the one hand, and religious texts and beliefs, on the
other, little more need be added to the above. The general methodological guidelines,
for both sides, are obvious enough. There is need for openness and realism, humility and
311

For instance: a general statement might be made in a given context, because it 'proves' a
point; while, elsewhere, that very same general statement might be denied, without trying to render
the two sides consistent.
312
Sing. apikorsus. The expression presumably derives from 'Epicurean', and is taken to imply
that the person so afflicted yearns only for debauchery and such. But this accusation more deeply
suggests the person concerned to lack objectivity, truth-orientation, honesty, etc. (unlike the
accuser, supposedly). That is an inconsistency in it!
313
Hopefully, and more likely than not, such revisions would tend towards leniency rather than
severity, since many of the severities which have accumulated over time stemmed, it is easy to
suspect, from cultural or subcultural superstition and fanaticism, rather than truly legal
considerations.

242

JUDAIC LOGIC

courage; looking impartially at the different sides of an issue; attention to nuances and
alternatives, and avoidance of over-simplification; not drawing more conclusions than
logically legitimate from the data available; insistence on evidence and cogency, and
consideration of logical possibilities and probabilities; testing and re-testing all ideas etc., etc., etc. These are primarily attitudinal prerequisites of valid knowledge, reflecting
a certain readiness and effort of the will, as well as a wisdom regarding the powers and
limitations of the human cognitive apparatus. Such attitudes, while not directly
impinging on results, make any results obtained more credible.
On the religious side, we have before us, firstly, the Torah, a text we believe, out of
pure faith and respect for our forefathers, to have been Divinely revealed. This text is
often ambiguous and often equivocal. A distinction must therefore at the outset be made
between its strictly literal meaning, to the extent that such is clearly discernible, and all
interpretations read into the text over time, by people, however authoritative, whether in
response to noticeable vagueness or incogency, or motivated by unrelated beliefs or
agendas. With regard to the relative credibility of exegetes, there is a need to realize that
the concept of authority itself is not unassailable: taken as absolute, it involves
circularities in argument; status can only healthily be attributed by virtue of and to the
extent that, and maintained so long as, the doctrines of an advocate are credible - the
status is an effect, and cannot be viewed as a cause, of doctrinal credibility. The possible
interruptions, and subtractions and additions, of an oral tradition must be taken into
account, when considering its end-results; critical review based on solid information and
tightly reasoned argument need not imply total rejection: unrelated matters remain in
force.
The oral tradition is claimed by its defenders to be perfect; where it seems imperfect, a
failure of vision or knowledge is imputed to the beholder, and eventually a moral
accusation and social ostracism. But a-priori definition of the content of orthodoxy,
as against heterodoxy, implies a prejudice without appeal: it cuts short all possible
reflection and can only win the allegiance of people unconcerned with objective
standards of truth. An independent thinker would suggest that, even granting the
founding document (the Torah) to be of Divine origin, albeit the difficulties it presents,
the exegesis of that document remains liable to human error and therefore subject to
review. Errors of fact and errors of logic have to be expunged, as in any area of human
knowledge: men made them and men can unmake them.
Furthermore, not only are traditional statements relating to nature or history open to
review, but legal statements would seem to be also, insofar as they are based on material
assumptions and reasoning processes which may later be found wanting (i.e. contrary to
empirical findings or inconsistent). So long as they can withstand scrutiny, so well and
good; but once definite error is found, they can no longer sincerely be upheld. Errors
made in explicit statements about nature are easiest to admit, though the more extremist
authorities even today would be reluctant to go even that far. Maimonides, who as well
as a great legal expert was a true philosopher, expressed himself clearly in this matter:
Do not expect that everything which (our sages) have mentioned regarding
astronomy should agree with the actual facts; for the theoretical sciences were
deficient in those days, and they did not speak of them on the basis of a tradition
received from the prophets, but rather because they were scientists by the

EPILOGUE

243

standards of their times, or because they had heard about these matters from
such scientists.314
But, though assumptions concerning nature or history do not always affect legal
dispositions, they often do. It would seem justified, in such cases, to demand review of
the legal conclusions, if the non-legal premises prove wrong. However, strictly
speaking, it would be a non-sequitur, since as logic teaches refutation of a premise does
not necessarily imply rejection of its conclusion. Unless - and that proviso would seem
to apply in enough cases - the conclusion could not have conceivably been based on an
alternative, acceptable, premise; that is, unless the conclusion was manifestly
exclusively implied by the original premise (so that denial of the premise implies denial
of the conclusion).
Examples of such errors are common enough in the Talmud. The following are obvious samples,
which would not seem radically threatening:
The time from one molad (new moon) to the next is halakhah lMosheh mi-Sinai - law
revealed to Moses on Sinai - and is given as 29 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes, and 3-1/3
seconds. Those who understand the elements of astronomy know that the time interval
between one occlusion and the next varies by as much as 13 minutes, owing to the varying
speed of the sun and the moon along their elliptical paths. To find the accurate average by
observation requires not only sustained observation but also accurate tools for timing.
There is a small discrepancy between the true length of the solar year and that used as the
basis of the calendar calculation (namely, 4 min. 21 sec.). This discrepancy, as small as it
is, has added up in the course of 1500 years to approximately 4-1/2 days. This causes some
difficulties with regard to the compliance of our calculated calendar with other
requirements of the halakhah.
According to the practice of halakhah, the circumference of a circle is to be taken as three
times its diameter, instead of (=3.141...).
Another example is the classical problem of the length of the diagonal of a square, which
is taken as 1-2/5 times the side of the square, instead of 2 (=1.414...). This specifies the
practical procedure for determining this length if required by the halakhah.
These examples are given by Hugo Mandelbaum in Torah, Facts and Conclusions, who
there gives relevant Talmud references.315 He argues that these were never meant to be anything
more than approximations for practical purposes, and therefore that the discovery of inaccuracy does
not affect the law. But one might well wonder, if the Sages had known them, why they would have
ignored them, not even acknowledging the correct figures. And if they did not know them, why
continue to rely on them in the issues concerned. Admittedly, these examples are relatively
innocuous (though one might imagine situations where they have, say, financial implications): but
there are matters of the sort which affect peoples lives more radically, e.g. in the field of medicine.

A purely empiricist/rationalistic approach to such matters does not, by definition,

take into account the factor of faith. The basic issue is ultimately always the reliability of
oral transmission. Not only the Written Torah, but also the Oral Torah is claimed to be
Divinely revealed. Just as an act of faith is possible and required in the former case, so in
the latter case; the empirical-rational difficulties are not much different in the two cases.
The written document might be a work of fiction, whether authored by Moses or others,
and even if not so, it might over time have been tampered with. Similarly, the oral tradition
might be an invention, the accretion of centuries of naivety or dishonesty, or again it might
not. Such things are difficult to prove one way of the other.
314

Moreh, 3:14. Quoted by Azriel Rosenfeld in Torah in the Space Age, Proceedings of the
Associations of Orthodox Jewish Scientists, Volume 2.
315
Proceedings of the Associations of Orthodox Jewish Scientists, Volume 1.

244

JUDAIC LOGIC

One might point to contradictions within the written text or its bloopers concerning
nature or history, as proofs of its human origins; or one might attribute other significances
to such events. One might point to the fact that the Sages were not always in agreement
with regard to the tradition, as proof that there was originally no monolithic tradition. Or,
with more nuance, regard situations where they were unanimous as signs of faultless
transmission and cases where they differed as so much evidence that confusions occurred
somewhere along the line. The reply that the Torah has seventy facets could seem like a
lame excuse, or one could be satisfied by the explanation that it was Gods will to promote
Rabbinic discussion and arbitration. At every stage, skepticism is possible and faith is
required. What matters to religion is that acceptance remains possible.
Another difficulty, which applies equally to written and oral revelation, is that faith is a
shaky foundation for law, since faith implies uncertainty (the faith is intended to buttress a position)
and uncertainty about the law would seem to exempt one from responsibility for breaking it. It is
true that secular legislation is subject to similar queries (at least when we try to base it on a concept
of natural justice, as against pragmatic collective coercion), but law based non-secular
considerations often additionally goes against common sense, or the sense of justice (which,
admittedly, is often a cultural rather than innate phenomenon).

Ultimately, the choice of faith or skepticism has to be a personal one, not imposed
from the outside by social pressures or, worse still, by threats of violence (except, of
course, where the same rights, of others, are at stake). Religion requires it, since ethics,
which is one of the main purposes of religion, is impossible without freedom of the will.
Science requires it, because knowledge, its principal goal, cannot be achieved under
conditions of intimidation or coercion. The individual gambles either way: opting for faith
and its promised benefits, one may waste ones life on fanciful nonsense; opting for
skepticism to enjoy life more, one may lose Divine support and a delightful afterlife. It is a
dilemma, and who can claim to know the answer for sure? What is evident is that once one
is locked onto one course or the other, it is very difficult (though not impossible) to escape
its relentless logic. And fence-sitting and indecisive swings one way and the other also
have their difficulties!
On the side of science, where human fallibility and the inductive basis of
knowledge are more freely admitted at all levels, calls to objectivity, tolerance and
flexibility would seem redundant. However, in practice there is a considerable antipathy
towards religion, since many if not most people do not admit faith as a legitimate basis
of knowledge. Those who take a more nuanced position, would accept blind trust as a
temporary way-station or working hypothesis, in cases where experience and reason have
so far not managed to establish fact or theory of high probability, or in metaphysical issues
where science is constitutionally unable to make a judgment satisfactory to its own
standards, so that arbitrary choice (to the extent that it is necessary for practical purposes)
is inevitable anyway. But in cases where inductive logic leans heavily in a direction
contrary to the dictates of faith (alleged to be revealed or traditional), they would refuse
them. All the more so, in cases where the issue under consideration seems definitely
resolved by empirical observation or logical analysis in a manner clearly contrary to the
faiths predictions.
It may in this context be pointed out, to begin with, that science and religion are not
in conflict in all matters, just some. There are a number of items in apparent conflict (for
example, Gen. 1:10 and 1:14-18 suggest that Earth was created before Sun and Moon);
there are many items in apparent agreement (for examples, Gen. 1:11-12 suggests that

EPILOGUE

245

vegetable life came first; Gen. 1:20, that the first animal life was aquatic); and there are
large areas where neither side seemingly impinges upon the other, for one reason or
another (as suggested in the previous paragraph). Where there are conflicts, they are not
always radical; there are often areas of doubt on one side or the other or both, which make
a standoff possible and an eventual compromise conceivable. All this means that general
conclusions one way or the other are unjustified, and issues have to be dealt with item by
item, with full knowledge of the details and conditions set on both sides.
Also, science, the secular pursuit of knowledge, is a broad concept, including not
only the study of the natural world (the various physical and biological sciences,
mathematics), but also the study of humans (history, psychology, sociology, politics and
economics, etc., all of which relate to the will), and of course philosophy (epistemology
and ontology, logic, which are the sciences of science). The concerns of these disciplines
intersect with that of religion in only some areas, as already stated. But furthermore, their
levels of certainty are very varied. While the results of the natural sciences on the whole
seem most certain, there are significant variations from one specific field or topic to the
other. The human sciences, though often well documented and tightly argued, are just as
often almost conventional in their wisdoms, products of widely accepted imagination. As
for philosophy, there are many conflicting schools of thought; and relatively few areas of
agreement, let alone solid grounds. These factors have to be taken into consideration when
making judgments.
Secondly, we may linger on the methodological, rather than material, aspects of the
two domains, and take note of the similarities as well as of differences in their approaches.
Similarities include a wide range of inductive and deductive techniques (which, to be sure,
may be occasionally misused). As for differences, some are technical, some relatively
ideological or attitudinal. Certain more literary than logical techniques used by religious
exegetes would seem dubious to scientists; some aspects of some of the hermeneutic
principles used by Rabbis are indubitably sophistic. The reliance on faith, in cases of
scientific doubt and more so in cases where science has reached conclusions contrary to
religion, and the willingness to submit to authority, may be considered radical divergences.
Suspending ones own judgment, under the guise of humility or piety, is
unacceptable to science: it is ultimately arrogance. Karl Popper has rightly stressed the
distinction between science and religion in the possibility of falsifiability: science,
ideally, remains flexible, open to real change in the face of new observation or insight,
whereas religion, at least in its more fundamentalist forms, refuses to budge from certain
positions, whatever the evidence or criticism leveled against it. To be sure, the defenses of
religious apologists often seem contrived, at best appeals to very distant and improbable
possibilities, designed only to maintain their ides fixes.
Nevertheless, science is bound to remain tolerant, not merely because religion (at
its best) is one expression of the profundities of the human spirit and the reduction of
knowledge to a narrower perspective would be a loss to all of us, but precisely because the
virtue of science, in its own terms, is its open-mindedness. We sometimes see in the media
scientific discoveries and ideas presented as final fact; but actual scientists, who are
acquainted with the wider philosophical issues surrounding the scientific enterprise, are not
so definite and exclusive. At the core of science are perceptual phenomena (such as a flash
of light in an electron microscope or a sound emitted by a meter); from these, under certain
conceptual assumptions and by means of generalizations, natural facts and laws of
considerable reliability are constructed; and beyond those, through imagination and
hypothesis, larger theories are postulated and continually checked and adjusted. At all
transitions, we depend on our logical intuitions (or common sense, which relies on

246

JUDAIC LOGIC

conceptual phenomena) to guide us to appropriate results. This always leaves a

window of opportunity, however remote, which religion can appeal to, and science, to
remain science (that is, true to itself), must nobly concede.
In conclusion, it is hoped that, while this work has certainly not finally resolved all
the issues, it has enriched and advanced their discussion somewhat.
Written in Geneva, Switzerland,
from November 1991 to July 1995.
With gratitude to the Almighty.

APPENDICES

247

16. APPENDICES.

1.

Further Notes on A-Fortiori Argument.

1.
Subjectal and predicatal (or antecedental and consequental) a-fortiori are sometimes
found in tandem, forming an enthymemic sorites, so that the conclusion of one implicitly
serves as minor premise in the other. For instances:
A is more R than B, and B is R enough to be C,
and more R is required to be C than to be D;
so, A is R enough to be D.
(Here, the tacit, subjectal result A is R enough to be C of the first two premises serves,
together with the third premise, to obtain the final, predicatal result.)
D is more R than C,
and C is R enough to be A, and more R is required to be A than to be B;
so, D is R enough to be B.
(Here, the tacit, predicatal result C is R enough to be B of the last two premises serves,
together with the first premise, to obtain the final, subjectal result.)

2.
We often encounter the following variant forms of suffective propositions;
sufficiency, X is R enough to be Y, may mean (and is implied by each of):
Exact sufficiency: X is R just enough to be Y, or
Generous sufficiency: X is R more than enough to be Y.
Thus, enough is commonly taken to mean either just enough or more than
enough, according to the spread between the two starting points of Ry and Rx. The more
than enough relation may in turn be variously (and more or less precisely) quantified: a
little more, much more, etc. But note well that these subsets of the form are just two of the
many ways, in a broader perspective, that Rx may be included in Ry.
Similarly, insufficiency is often expressed in the form:
X is R less than enough to be Y.

248

JUDAIC LOGIC

This may be further quantified: a lot less, not-much less, etc. As with the
expressions just enough and more than enough used to qualify sufficiency, this
expression less than enough occurs in specific contexts, namely where we are dealing
with a single, continuous range of R (starting at Ry and growing beyond it). But where we
have discontinuities in our range, or in other words, several intervals, the language
becomes inadequate. However, we should also note two other variants, which attempt to
verbalize such discontinuities to some extent (implying, respectively, an upper limit and a
lower limit):
Insufficiency through excess: X is too much R to be Y, or
Insufficiency through deficiency: X is too little R to be Y.
Both excess and deficiency must be taken to imply insufficiency, though for
different reasons. Thus, the relation not-enough in our frozen sense must not be limited
to too-little (as often in everyday use), but must range over too-much as well. Put
differently, insufficiency (in this broad sense) means either too little or too much. But to
repeat, such expressions, though useful enough in certain commonly encountered contexts,
cannot verbalize all situations. A full analysis of these issues is best carried out through
mathematical logic, using symbolic techniques. I will not even attempt it - it is not my
forte. In any case, these are details which do not affect the truth of the more generic
statements we here make concerning a-fortiori language and logic.
Lastly, note that valid moods of a-fortiori can be developed, using such variant
forms of suffective proposition in various combinations. To develop them, we need only
take the already validated generic moods as our starting points, and consider the effect of
variations. The conditions under which these subsets of a-fortiori are valid are the same as
those already established for the main moods from which they derive. Here are a couple of
interesting illustrations of the kind of argument meant:
P is more R than Q; therefore:
if Q is R just enough to be S, then P is R more than enough to be S.
Also note, with the same major premise, if P is R just enough to be S, then Q is R less
than (i.e. neither more than nor just) enough to be S.
More R is required to be P than to be Q; therefore:
If S is R just enough to be P, then S is R more than enough to be Q.
Also note, with the same major premise, if S is R just enough to be Q, then S is R less
than (i.e. neither more than nor just) enough to be P.
The reader is invited to work out all other possibilities and the validations.

APPENDICES

249

3.
I would like to here make some comments concerning the representation of
natural phenomena in mathematical formulae, for readers unacquainted with the topic
which was raised in the context of our discussion of the dayo principle.
Any two or more phenomena, be they physical or whatever, whose magnitudes
evidently vary together in some way, however complex, can in principle (provided we are
able to measure them precisely) be assimilated into an algebraic equation. Such equations,
in turn, have a geometrical equivalent, in a Cartesian space where each of the phenomena
is represented by a dimension; their quantitative relationship is then expressed by a straight
line or a curve of whatever shape, or some other figure.
A simple example is the ideal gas equation, pv/t=k, where p, v, t are variables,
p=pressure in the gas, v=volume of the gas, t=temperature of the gas, and k=a constant.
The equation is called ideal, because real gases do not quite behave in this way; but it is a
good approximation in ordinary circumstances. This equation yields a linear relation, in a
three-dimensional Cartesian representation. The relationship could just as well have been
exponential or sinusoidal or whatever; but this is what experimenters found it to be, by
measuring various states of gases and extrapolating the results.
Now, what does this mean in more colloquial terms? An equation like pv/t=k is a
summary of innumerable conditional propositions, concerning all possible values of the
variables. For any given value of p, say, we can predict by a simple calculation all the
correspondences between the values of v and those of t:
if the gas has pressure p1, then:
if the gas has volume v1, then it has temperature t1 (=p1.v1/k), and vice versa;
if the gas has volume v2, then it has temperature t2 (=p1.v2/k), and vice versa;
...etc.
if the gas has pressure p2, then:
if the gas has volume v1, then it has temperature t5 (=p2.v1/k), and vice versa;
if the gas has volume v2, then it has temperature t6 (=p2.v2/k), and vice versa;
...etc.
...and so on.
Knowing the possible variety and complexity of natural equations, it is easy to see
the reasonableness of the dayo principle. Two variables may be proportional for part of
their course, and then have a radically different relation, if the equation which links them is
sufficiently contorted.

4.
In my early attempts to understand a-fortiori argument, I attempted a theory which I
called the ABCD Format. Though this may not be applicable to all cases or go to the
essence, it may still have some value, so I will briefly present it here.
A stands for the agent, B for what is in between (the means), C for the
surrounding conditions, and D for the destination (goal); note that these terms are used in
a broad concept of causality, not necessarily implying movement or change, nor conscious
pursuit of ends. In this framework, we can conceive of subjectal a-fortiori as follows:

250

JUDAIC LOGIC

Major premise (for both the following moods):

Under conditions C1, agent A, by means B1, causes D, more likely than under
conditions C2, agent A, by means B2, causes D; therefore:
Positive mood (minor to major):
If A in C2 (=Q) does B2 (=Rq) causing D (=S), then A in C1 (=P) will do B1 (=Rp)
causing D (=S).
e.g. The children of Israel (A), while Moses is yet alive (C2), do things (B2) against the Law (D);
therefore, they (A), after Moses dies (C1), will probably do things (B1) against the Law (D).

Negative mood (major to minor):

If A in C1 (=P) does not do B1 (=Rp) and not-cause D (=S), then A in C2 (=Q) will
not do B2 (=Rq) and not-cause D (=S).
e.g. Josephs brothers (A), though out of reach of the Egyptian authorities (C1), did not keep found
money (B1) and thus avoided dishonesty (D); therefore, they (A), within Egyptian territory (C2),
would probably not steal (B2) and thus would avoid dishonesty (D).

Note that all four factors (A, B, C, D) are involved, if only particularly and possibly
only implicitly, in each of the three propositions. Note that the relationship between the
two clauses of the major premise, which makes possible our drawing a conclusion from the
minor premise, is here conceived as one of probability, or effectiveness of causation. In
this framework, the quantitative aspect of a-fortiori is rather incidental, and the argument
involved is essentially an apodosis.
Similar constructions can presumably be worked out for predicatal arguments,
positive and negative. And likewise for implicationals.
As already said, it is doubtful that this format is of general or profound value,
except that it shows the causal subtext of some arguments, and incidentally how the terms
of subjectal and predicatal arguments may occasionally be reshuffled from one form to the
other.

2.

Notions of Time.

In this appendix, I want to put forward some suggestions concerning the Creation
narrative, as presented in Genesis I and II and traditional Jewish commentaries thereto,
and current scientific theories on the subject. (I wrote most of the text below some years
ago; however, some more recent thoughts have been added in the last lines.)

A common preconception is the belief that Science and Religion are somehow in
radical conflict. Many scientists wrongly presume that their discoveries exclude the
existence of a spiritual dimension to the world, or even the existence of God. As a
consequence, religious people, taking these natural scientists at their word, become
suspicious towards the whole enterprise of science, its methods and results. But a bit of

APPENDICES

251

reflection shows that there is no inherent antipathy between these fields. There is no single
discovery of science which in fact, in strict logic, implies an atheistic or anti-spiritual
conclusion.
Consider evolution of species or of the universe. All science does is try to describe
the process. Viewed from above, the process of evolution is simply a larger movement,
than say the movement of your baby across the floor; it takes longer and affects more
things, but it is still just a movement.
When scientists tell us the causes of some phenomenon, all they are doing is
describing some parts of it, or describing some other phenomena which seem to be
repeatedly conjoined with it. Explanation is nothing more than further description, whether
in the form of categorical propositions or in the form of some type of conditioning. There
is no logical reason why this movement or process, which is a miniature thing in the hand
of God, could not have been intended and willed by Him, as a natural outcrop of Creation.
Thus, evolutionism and creationism have no inherent conceptual contradiction to each
other.
Now, we confront this reconciliation with the literal interpretation of sacred texts Genesis. How can a process, like evolution of species, or the unfolding of the universe,
take millions or billions of years, and yet be claimed to have taken a week, some 5750
years ago?
I dont know the answer, but I can suggest some - enough to show that the
compatibility of those propositions is quite conceivable, and therefore that there is no
logical basis for regarding them as mutually exclusive. Remember that logical possibility is
inferable from the absence of logical impossibility, according to the Law of the Excluded
Middle (in an expanded, modal form: if not seemingly impossible, then seemingly
possible).
Traces of the Past. For a start, the world could have made its appearance
yesterday, or a minute ago - the world with all its memories and material traces of past
existence and activity - and we would not know the difference. There is no way for us to
infer with utter certainty, from the existence in the present of memories and material
traces, the actual existence of the past as it appears to us by virtue of these memories and
material traces.
The existence of the Past (or for that matter, the Future), is one of those ongoing
hidden assumptions. It is only an assumption, whose counter-assumptions have not been
considered or eliminated. (Notwithstanding, it is a pretty powerful appearance, and is
worthy of belief. It is a rather radical solution to simply write it off.)
Time with Variable Geometry. Secondly, we can speculate concerning Time, and
show that a universe in which a week is also a few billion years is quite conceivable. The
number of moments in the Creation week is, say, n; the number of moments in the apparent
eons of world-evolution is also n; each has the same number of discrete segments of time,
only the segments are of different sizes.
Stars come and go, dinosaurs come and go, at accelerated rates, like a speeded up
movie. They cannot tell the difference. The processes involved may be descriptively
exactly identical, yet have different speeds than they seem to, from our perspective.
The Creator, who alone is beyond Time, is able to compare the segments of time of
that bygone era, and the segments of time in the last few thousand years of human history,

252

JUDAIC LOGIC

and can truthfully tell us: one moment of that past time was equal in size to, say, m
moments of your time. Perhaps this was what the Psalmist meant, who said (Ps. 90):
For a thousand years in Thy eyes are as a day, as a yesterday that is past.
The notion that space and time are continuous is a prejudicial assumption. Most
people take it for granted, and are not aware of the possibility of an alternative viewpoint:
the notion of space or time as discrete (or quantized, in modern parlance). An early Greek
philosopher, Zeno of Elea, described several paradoxes in the concept of motion. One of
these, was his paradox of Achilles and the Tortoise, which went something like this:
If, upon seeing a tortoise in the distance, the great runner Achilles tried to
catch it, he would never succeed. For by the time he got to where the tortoise had
been when he first spotted it, the slow-paced tortoise would not be there but a bit
further on. Then again, by the time he got to its second station, it would already be
at its third. And so on, ad infinitum. He could therefore never overtake it, however
fast he ran.
The Newtonian reply to Zeno would be that the infinite subdivision of space by a
moving body does not have to take an infinite duration of time, and that the different rates
of this subdivision allow for the faster object to converge on and pass the slower one. This
is the philosophical background of differential and integral calculus, and it is in agreement
with experience and common sense.
However, the paradox could, seemingly equally well, have been resolved by
another assumption. We could regard space and/or time as composed of discrete
segments, extremely but not infinitely minuscule, within which bodies are invariably
stationary (though not locked).
A moving body would pass from one station to another, by instantly disappearing
from the first, and instantly reappearing in the second, without any of its parts having at all
traveled within either station. The instantaneous change of place takes no time, only the
static existence at each place has an extension in time.
Think of a stroboscopic light in a disco. Every time it flashes on the dancers are deployed
slightly differently. You only assume that they moved through intervening spaces, while the light
was off. Suppose, instead, that they ceased to exist during intervening time; there would be no way
for you to know it.
If that intervening time span is of zero duration (a point of time, an instant), they cannot
even be strictly said to have ceased to exist. If the time spans during which the light was on (the
stationary moments), were so small that change within them was invisible to the naked eye or any
technological contraption, you would have no empirical basis for claiming that change was in fact
occurring.
A valuable analogy is that of cinema. The film consists of a series of stills, yet moved
rapidly enough through a projector, the image on the screen gives no hint of discontinuity, but
appears smoothly ongoing. Even on a static level, Impressionist painters, like Van Gogh, Renoir or
Milne, have well demonstrated how a mass of dots may from a distance seem quite integrated.
It is therefore quite conceivable that motion is not as continuous as it appears, but a series
of momentary stops, separated by instantaneous disappearance here and reappearance there of the
phenomenon. This concept is, incidentally, suggested by the belief that God is constantly recreating,
sustaining, the universe.

APPENDICES

253

In that case, the speed (distance over time) of a movement would be defined as the sum of
the diameters of the segments of space covered, divided by the sum of the diameters of the segments
of time taken. Space and time need not both be discrete; it is also conceivable that only one of them
is discrete, and the other continuous. These are further complications, which have to be addressed.
Note that the discreteness viewpoint implies that the Present is a moment, whereas the
continuity idea implies it to be only an instant.

Now, my concern here is not the ultimate viability of this alternative hypothesis,
which is for Physicists to consider. The point is that, so far as I know, no great effort if any
has been put into formulating and testing this alternative, at least not by laypersons.
We accepted the first viable theory that came to mind, the continuum concept, and
did not demonstrate the failure of other conceptions to accord with experience and be
internally consistent. Even though our theory seems logically coherent and to go on fitting
the facts, we still have some obligation to consider and hopefully eliminate any
alternatives.
It may turn out that the non-continuous space-time idea solves some previously
perplexing problems, like the particle-wave paradox. It treats space and time so differently
that it is virtually bound to produce new concepts for us.
It may open new gates for us, like allowing for space or time segments of nonuniform sizes; or like allowing for instant travel from one minuscule of space to another
station, a non-contiguous, distant one, without passing through intervening places.
Then again, we may find out that some tightly implied prediction by the maverick
postulate is self-contradictory or contrary to experience; but in that case, we have
succeeded in more firmly establishing the commonplace assumption.
Sometimes our tacit assumptions are eventually unmasked. An example of this is
the Euclidean idea of space-time as straight (so that parallels never meet), which was not
so long ago rejected by Einstein in his General Relativity theory, in an effort to solve the
paradox of the constancy of the velocity of light, if I remember rightly.316
Luckily, recent geometricians (such as Gauss, as I recall) had already prepared the
mathematical equipment for the notion that parallels may meet. For instance, like the
great circles of an enormous sphere, which seem parallel in a small locality, but ultimately
at light-year distances do intersect.
Once we accept space and time as capable of being curved in reality, even though
we have always represented them in our minds eye and on paper as straight lines, it is
quite easy to also imagine space or time as more severely irregular in shape. The lines may
be warped and twisted in all sorts of different ways, even with kinks and loops, and there
might even be holes in the fabric.
Such irregularities (which may in reality not be as extreme as here suggested)
would simply signify that there are certain inherent possibilities and impossibilities in
space-time, physical pathways and inhibitions which any passing body is locked into.
There would be no way for us to know these infinitesimal restrictions, if the bodys
transition appeared quite smooth on an accessible level.
(For all we know, bodies may be nothing more than peculiar knots in the fabric of
being. Moving, like a ripple of water; tracing a scar across time. I am just speculating.)
316

The reader is here referred to books on space-time Physics, such as that of Taylor and
Wheeler. It is years since I personally studied the subject, so my memory of details is often
sketchy, though I hopefully retained the main essentials.

254

JUDAIC LOGIC

Thus, our preconception of space-time as necessarily evenly spaced, in accordance

with the Cartesian image given by graph-paper, is not indubitably established. There are
alternative conceptions, which seem in principle equally tenable (so far, to me, at least).
It is therefore quite conceivable, additionally, that space or time consists of
discrete segments of varying size. One can carry an object like a ruler or clock from one
place to another for measurement purposes. But if the ruler expands or contracts to fill an
equal number of segments of space of different shapes and sizes, there would be no way
for us to compare the dimensions of different segments of space. Likewise, if the clock
(which is just a physical process) changed speed from time to time, in accordance with the
varying durations of moments, time would still seem constant to an observer.
It may even be that time, instead of being universal, varies with place, so that they
are more inextricably tied. In any case, the variations in size may be regular, perhaps
ordered from the longest to the shortest or vice versa, or perhaps in cyclical arrangements,
or they may be without any pattern whatever.
We would be unable to answer such questions, unless we could somehow see space
itself or straddle more than one moment of time. It may be that some technology can be
devised. Perhaps we can already experience the diverse sizes of time: perhaps a day which
has seemed to pass more quickly than usual literally did so.
Variable time simply implies that all the processes in the universe vary in speed,
but in unison or in concert. So long as their relative speeds remain the same, their common
overall speed may vary wildly without affecting a thing. All physical equations remain
identical; nothing is detected by measurement. There does not seem to be any physical
way to distinguish this situation of variable geometry from that in a universe of
continuous and constant time.
It follows that many postulates are equally compatible with the given data. We may
be able to construct distinctive testable predictions, or there may be no way for us to
choose between them. The important thing is to keep in mind that even our most cherished
beliefs may have alternative viewpoints. The object is not to destabilize, but to remain
lucid.
Some may argue that these speculations diverge from the so-called Principle of the
Uniformity of Indistinguishables. According to this principle, for instance, space and time
are exactly the same everywhere and at all times - because, since there is no conceivable
way to physically measure and compare different manifestations of these phenomena, they
must be assumed uniform throughout.
But it is clear that this principle has no formal value, because we can conceive of
logical reasons to justify an opposite belief - namely, that space or time may consist of
discrete and somewhat distinct phenomena. If the principle of the uniformity of
indistinguishables was regarded as formal, it would have to apply to all abstractions, so
that there could only be one abstraction (since abstractions as such are not sensibly
different). Yet we are all agreed that we may conceive of differences between various
abstractions, like say the difference between an electron and a positron (or between the
various concepts in any sentence we claim as true).
We can often distinguish between indistinguishables, at least with reference to
their perceivable effects. We may well assume an identity to exist, so long as we have no
logical reasons, in a broader context, to do otherwise. The principle in question is only an
inductive instrument, and not a deductively compulsory generality.

APPENDICES

255

Indeed, it is only since Newtons time that the infinite divisibility of space and time
has been taken for granted. Prior to that, the issue was considered open, as discussions of
Zenos ideas by Aristotle well show. More recently, this principle has been considerably
weakened by Albert Einsteins theory of the physical universe as the surface of a four
dimensional sphere, instead of a Euclidean extension.
Einsteins intervention opens the door to an fundamental review of the principle of
the identity of indistinguishables. For, once we understand that space and time need not fit
the perfectly square conception of Euclidean geometry, then anything goes. A breach has
been made between the geometry imposed by our limited imagination and the geometry of
the wider, external world; that is, more precisely, our imagination has been freed from its
Cartesian graph-paper with straight lines mentality, and we can now imagine graph-papers
with lines of all sorts of shape.
The Swiss graphical artist M. S. Escher, you may recall, used to draw worlds in
which water could go uphill, or stairs could return to the same level while always heading
up (or down). If we look on such geometrical perspectives seriously, we might for instance
understand the law of gravity, with reference to new definitions as to what constitutes a
straight line. We might then, like Escher, view a spiral as a straight line in real-world
geometry; in which case there would be no up or down motion to account for.
In other words, Newtons definition of the Law of Inertia might simply be extended
to invisible forces like gravity, or electricity and magnetism, or subatomic fields, by
redefining what we understand by a straight line. If Newtonian momentum seems
acceptable to us without further explanation, why not the mechanism of more curved
movements? It is, ultimately, only with reference to volition that the concept of inertia
becomes philosophically insufficient.
These are, of course, speculations - which might or might not be useful to Unified
Field Theory, or even maybe to biology. But the point being made is that we are, especially
since Einstein, more able to visualize alternative geometries - not only a real-world in
which space and time are curved at astronomical intervals, but also similarly, a real-world
in which there are localized geometries, which differ from each other. In this way, the
principle of the identity of indistinguishables, becomes a very arbitrary assumption, which
does not make an absolute philosophical claim on our loyalty.
There may be still other, better, explanations. I do not know, and it may well be that
we are in principle not even able to confirm or discredit such speculations. What matters
and is clear, in any event, is that scientific dating does not necessarily stand in logical
contradiction to Biblical claims.
So long as conclusive tests are not available, neither position refutes or is refuted by
the other. They are logically disconnected from each other, shown to be harmonious.
Thus, biologists and paleontologists, and likewise astronomers, have no logical
justification, in any of their actual findings, for regarding the world as exclusively material
and natural. Any process they describe would look exactly the same whether it was
spontaneous or caused by Providence, so how can they claim an atheistic conclusion?
Conversely, believers can rest assured that scientific findings have no direct bearing
on their beliefs. We know so little about time as such, that any statement concerning it is
pure guess-work, anyway.
In conclusion, I would like to make here some comments concerning the exegesis
of the Bereshit text about Creation. There has always been an ambiguity in Genesis 2:2

256

JUDAIC LOGIC

with regard to the Seventh Day. Was it a historic Sabbath, which took place at the
beginning of the Time of the material world, or is it the Final Sabbath, which will happen
towards the end of history? Are our weekly Sabbaths a celebration of the first Sabbath or a
symbolic anticipation of the last? Commentators have tended to interpret it both ways,
unsure of what to make of it.
We could say that the six days of Creation include all of natural and human
history, to its end; whereas the seventh day is a futuristic, post-historical event. That is,
we may view our (past and future) history as interspersed into the textual space between
Genesis 1:31 and 2:1, and consider Genesis 2:2 as referring to the rest of God after the
disappearance of the material world of diversity, when He will (supposedly) return to His
solitary Oneness and relax.
Such a viewpoint is confirmed by the tradition that God did not really finish His
work in the first six days, but continues to mold it (through miracles like those in the
liberation from Egypt story or through hidden providential interference as in the story of
Esther), working towards its Messianic perfection.
Implied in this viewpoint is that the word day (yom, Moy) need not be taken
literally as a day under the Earths Sun, which notion is in any case doubtful in view of
Einsteins ideas concerning the relativity of time317. This is confirmed within the text itself,
where the very same word is used to refer equivocally to a longer period: in the day that
the Lord God made earth and heaven (Gen. 1:4) - from which it follows that day can
equally mean six days or even (why not, therefore) an eon.
In this case, it is not necessary to consider the Biblical text as insisting that the
world was Created literally in one of our weeks - it could have taken any amount of time;
and furthermore, we need not view the various first six days as being periods of equal
length - they may each be a long period of time of any length (of whatever length scientific
measurement shows them to be), without even needing to call upon a variable geometry
concept of time.
There still remains a problem concerning the order of appearance of material bodies. Thus,
the Earth and vegetable matter make their appearance on the third day; the Sun, Moon and Stars
appear on the fourth day; the animals on the fifth and sixth days (interestingly, aquatic creatures and
birds precede land creatures); and humans on the sixth. Science would not agree to this sequence of
things. But medieval Jewish commentators have also previously suggested a revised order, claiming
that the Divine decision concerning this or that event preceded its actualization, so that the physical
sequence need not be taken literally as written. We may accept this argument, here.

Ultimately, if religion is to be free of the criticism leveled against it, with much
justification, by Karl Popper, that unlike science it refuses to accept the methodological
imperative of falsifiability, it must submit to change in the light of new data and give up
on dogmatism. As far as I can see, the above suggestions are not hard-to-swallow changes.

317

To some commentators, the claim of Genesis that the Earth was created a 'day' before the
Sun is a problem, in that 'days' (of 24 hours) are counted only once both Earth and Sun are in
existence. However, this objection does not seem weighty to me, since we are able to conceive of
time and time-intervals more abstractly, starting from any manifestation of changing matter, or
indeed of changing mind-stuff.

APPENDICES

3.

257

Gematria.

Hebrew numerology, known as gematria

, has to be given attention within any

work on logic, inasmuch as it is, rightly or wrongly, used by many teachers in Judaism as a
method of inference. However, it is rarely a process through which mitzvot or minhagim
are legally established (though the interdiction against eating nuts on a certain festival
comes to mind), but is rather a neat way to explain certain laws or traditions ex post facto,
producing associations between words or concepts which otherwise would remain far
apart.
318

I have not to date looked into the history of gematrial logic, though I suspect it has gone
through a process of development. It is reportedly rooted in the Talmud319; but my impression
offhand is that it gained prominence in the mystical period following the Zohar, especially in the
time of Tverya and Sfat mystics like the Ari haKadosh (R. Yitshak Luria, 16th century CE).

Be that as it may, it is relatively easy for us logicians to devise a way to test such an
approach to knowledge, as we shall now show. First, it should be noted that the general
justification given for gematrial logic by its theoreticians, which gives it some plausibility,
is that the Hebrew language is a Divine creation, antedating the Creation of the rest of the
world, since the former was used as the instrument of the latter, as implied by use of the
verb Vayomer (and He said) in the first verses of the Torah320. Thus, according to this view,
the Hebrew language underlies the phenomena of this world in a very deep and significant
way, and the (correct) names of things may be conceived as not mere arbitrary appendages
of them, but as reflecting their very essence somehow. Since the ordered Hebrew alphabet
from early on also served as a list of numbers, and that numbers have arithmetical
relations, it may naturally be assumed that the letters have parallel relations321.
While not denying outright the truth of such claims, logical science cannot rest
content with justifications formulated so vaguely and broadly. Especially tenuous, in the
318
(Gk.)
319

As an acquaintance of mine has suggested, the word perhaps derives from 'geometry'

According to J.E. (apparently). Incidentally, J.E. mentions other exegetic techniques in a

similar vein, such as the splitting of words (notarikon) and the transposition or the substitution of
letters in words (al tikra... , ela... ; i.e. do not read... , but...). Such changes are not, of course, to be
made in the Torah text itself, but allow for variant readings. With regard to splitting words up or
transposing their letters, these proceedings are consistent with gematrial assumptions, insofar as
the numerical value is unaffected by them. More broadly, such techniques would seem justified to
the extent that they are consistent with established etymological and phonemic principles.
However, in some cases, the proposed readings seem artificial and fanciful (to me, at least). We
should also mention, while on this topic, variations in vocalization, on which R. Akiba, preceded by
R. Yehudah b. Roez, relied (yesh em lemikra); but R. Ishmael considered that 'only the
consonantal text is authoritative' (yesh em lemasoret). Logically, the consonants are empirical data;
while the vowels have the status of hypotheses, to be confirmed so far as possible by the entire
context.
320
See Appendix 5.
321
As a system of numbers, this is much less practical than the decimal. The first 10 letters of
the alphabet stand for the numbers 1 to 10, the next eight for 20 to 90, and the last four for 100 to
400; thousands may be indicated by an apostrophe. A number like 5755 is written h"nwt'h, reading
from right to left 5000+400+300+50+5. There is no letter standing for zero (efes). Arithmetic
operations have no sign, but are expressed in words. In my opinion, the lack of zero, the
asymmetry of the three numbers 200, 300, 400 (no 500, etc.), and the superfluity of numbers (20
on up), as well as the awkward way available numbers combine to form larger numbers, all point to
the antiquity, but also the human origin, of this system.

258

JUDAIC LOGIC

above arguments, is the connection proposed between letter and number; for even if letter
sound and shape reflect essences, it does not so easily follow that their corresponding
numerical values are also metaphysical facts. In any case, the issue cannot be resolved
purely empirically, at least not in a way open for all to see for themselves. It must be
resolved by more rational means. Logic proposes a way: consistency checking. We may
arrive at an objective evaluation of gematrial logic by systematizing its application and
considering whether the results obtained make sense. The first task would be to list the
various devices used in gematrial inference, such as those listed below as examples.
a. The letters of the Hebrew alphabet have certain numerical values, a=1, b=2, g=3, etc.
The primary numerical value of a word is the sum of the numerical values of the letters
composing it.
b. The primary value of a word may optionally, on occasion, be extended by a unit; they
say, plus one for the word as a whole.
c. The primary value of a word may optionally, on occasion, be shortened by simply
adding together the digits of the primary value; e.g. 81=8+1=9.322
Clearly, each such device produces a distinct category of numerical value for all
words, so that each word has, correspondingly, a number of possible numerical values.
Words with the same numerical value are numerologically equal, and the things they
refer to can be conceptually associated323. An obvious general consequence of such a
principle is that all words composed of the same letters, in whatever order, are
numerologically identical324. But more broadly, we can produce a dictionary of Hebrew
words in which the various numerical values of each word (the primary, the extended, the
shortened, etc.) are specified. Furthermore, a corresponding thesaurus of gematria can be
made which groups together all words having the same numerical value (according to the
method of calculation a, b, c, etc. - or irrespective of these methods if it is permitted to
equate their results). These books would be easy to produce in a modern personal
computer with a good spreadsheet program, given the database of Hebrew words.
It is impossible to predict the results of such general calculations and
classifications. The results obtained may seem so ridiculously mixed-up as to discredit
gematrial logic even in the eyes of its advocates; or some interesting and unexpected
regularities may be brought to light capable of impressing even skeptics. My guess is that,
for the most part, the words thus grouped together will be so remotely related to each other,
322

Possibly, a three-digit short value might be shortened to two-digits, and then further still to
one digit; also, the extended value might similarly be shortened; each such device, if permitted,
gives rise to a different category of numerological value. In any case, I know there are still more
devices. For instance: letters whose values are ten times greater may occasionally be considered
equivalent; this applies to the sets: 1, 10, 100; 2, 20, 200; 3, 30, 300; 4, 40, 400; 5, 50; 6, 60; 7, 70;
8, 80; 9, 90 (this device, incidentally, might be viewed as a corollary of 'shortening'). Another
example: the letters of a word may be spelt out in full, before conversion to numerical values; thus,
an a becomes alef, and thereby worth 1+30+80=111; a b becomes bet, and worth 2+400=402; and
so forth (this might be called 'multiplying', and presumably outcomes of this device can in turn be
subjected to other devices).
323
I am not sure offhand whether or to what extent different categories of value are
comparable: can a primary value be equated to an extended or shortened value? or only to another
primary value? In any case, these are technical details we need not go into here, our goal being
only to define a methodology of verification.
324
Hebrew vowels, composed of dots and dashes, do not (to my knowledge) have
numerological values.

APPENDICES

259

whether as synonyms or antonyms or otherwise, that the value of their being so associated
will be at best literary; very rarely, if ever, can we expect the words thus grouped together
to present an unequivocal conceptual message. Such may even be the ultimate position of
Jewish tradition, since it does not categorically grant gematrial logic a general and binding
legal status, but mostly uses it for homiletic purposes.
We might also finally mention, in this context, what may be called the new
numerology325, which has become fashionable in some circles today. Using computers
(though the job could conceivably be done manually), every nth letter (with various values
of n) of a Torah text is flagged; e.g. every 10th letter, or every 50th, etc. The letters thus
selected are assembled (occasionally, by reversing the order of the letters); and in some
cases words or phrases appear, which are not only meaningful in themselves, but which
may even bear a relation to the content of the text they occur in or seem to predict later
historical events. This is indeed very surprising, and is considered as proving the prophetic
origin of the document, since no ordinary human could have intentionally written a
document with such properties.
Again, not being involved in such research myself, and not having bothered to
study its published results in detail, I cannot pronounce myself concerning it. All I can do
is state some of the principles that come to mind, which may or not have been applied:
a. it is not enough to apply the technique to only some parts of the Torah, but it must be
done systematically to all of it, and with all possible values of n (the number is limited,
since the document is of finite size);
b. an explanation has to be adduced for meaningless letter collections, which presumably
occasionally occur; and
c. the technique must be applied to many other documents, too, religious or secular, which
serve the function of control samples for the experiment.
Only thus, in perspective, can the results, whatever they are, be evaluated
scientifically. In any case, it is to be wondered whether any interpretative dividends from
such a technique, devoid of theoretical basis, could be used for Halakhic or even Hagadic
purposes. This method is not to my knowledge traditionally counted as a valid hermeneutic
technique; so, from the orthodox point of view, it carries no authority. Furthermore, the
tool has no predictive value: some letter collections may indeed be meaningful, but they
are so only ex post facto (for instance, if researchers had come across the name Hitler 100
years ago, they would not have known what to make of it).
The advocates of this new numerology are said to have demonstrated, using
statistical methods, that the probabilities of their results arising by chance are infinitesimal.
They adduce this in support of the traditional theses: (a) that the Torah is of Divine origin
and (b) that it contains all the secrets of the universe and a prediction of all of history. But
these inferences constitute illicit generalizations. With regard to the first thesis, we can
only at best conclude that passages of the Torah which actually yield impressive
predictions are prophetic; passages apparently not yielding such data remain uncertified.
With regard to the second thesis, the discovery of a few meaningful character strings does
not entail that all science and history are contained in the document; one would have to
find all or most known science and history mentioned in it, to dare make such broad
claims.

325

The given name is, I think, 'Sequences of Equidistant Letters (SEL)'.

260

JUDAIC LOGIC

Another comment worth making is: if the Torah were ever proved to be of Divine
origin, what would become of faith? Is not uncertainty essential to religion?

4.

Three Texts Reviewed.

In this appendix, we review three currently popular texts on Judaic logic. Our
object here is not merely to summarize those texts, but to give the reader an idea of the
scope of traditional Talmud heuristics, and in passing perhaps bring to light some topics of
epistemological significance.

a.

Feigenbaums Understanding the Talmud.

The student of Talmud may know how a Talmudic discussion is generally running,
but that is not enough. He must also recognize and appreciate the role played by each line,
how the Gemara goes from premises to conclusion, who is talking to whom, whether a
statement is merely explaining or modifying previous statements, what question it purports
to answer, and so forth. Key phrases, which signal discursive events, and logical structures,
which shape the discussion, must be noticed and correctly understood.
The student is advised to avoid pronouns; to know where a quote ends (e.g. through
signal words in the next sentence) and what part of it is relevant; to know whether the
person speaking is a Tana or an Amora; to be aware at all stages of the issues at hand, what
is being said and why, what is sought and what for, etc.; to identify what means are being
used to deal with these issues: what kind of statements are involved (as per classification
sketched below), what each accomplishes, in relation to which other(s), etc.; to chart the
flow of discussions326; to understand in what way(s) the Gemara has affected the Mishnah its interpretation, its applications, its explanation (supposedly, in contrast to the simple
reading or pshat); and to grasp the overall result (qualification, expansion, rejection,
validation, etc.).
A dispute occurs when two authorities make conflicting statements about some
issue. Conciliation is eventually achieved through providing proof one way of the other,
which may mean quoting an authoritative text or sharing a logical insight (svara). The
interplay of authority of statements has to be carefully considered: for instance, a mishna,
braita or posuk (verse from the Torah) can only be taken as proof of a statement when the
quote cannot be explained in any other way327. Various kinds of statements may be
distinguished:
information statements, which relate non-legal data with some function in the
discussion; including
explanatory statements, which clarify something without however laying
down or modifying or delimiting the law; as well as
326

The modernism of flow-charts is significant; it shows how Jewish methodology may

develop by absorption of new techniques from the surrounding culture. Another example of this is
the work of the Ramchal, which we review further on.
327
P. 7.

APPENDICES

261

legal statements, which as well as lay down the law describe the circumstances
of their applications (the scenarios they concern); including
qualifying statements, which define the limits of the law, by significantly
qualifying the circumstances or the cases where it is applicable.
To this we, with more of a logicians eye than a Talmudists, might add assumptions,
temporarily taken up in the course of a discussion, which are subjected to tests and finally adopted
or rejected; This modal element should not be ignored, as it makes manifest the inductive rather than
deductive course of the discussion.

Feigenbaum rightly stresses the dynamics of discovery. The student must not rush
to judgment but perceive and follow the intricacies of elimination of theses, the multiple ifthen statements and apodotic processes, which result in a complex dialectic. In the Gemara,
the course of argument is usually through questions and answers. Different sequences of
questions (Q) and answers (A), shape varying logical structures, such as:
Q1 is posed,
A1 to Q1 is proposed,
Q2 to A1 is posed,
then A2 to Q1 (or to Q2) is proposed....
For this reason, it is important to know just what preceding statement(s) each
question relates to, and just what question each answer relates to. The outcome is usually
sorted out with reference to the wording of the last answer. Questions may neutrally pursue
information or signal fault-finding in a thesis and in some cases ultimately the defense of
some counter-thesis.
An information question (sheelah) may seek the resolution of an independent legal
issue, or the Torah or logical source of a statement; or the authorship and location of a
citation, or some explanation; it does not in itself intend to put in doubt the authority or
logic of a previous statement. Whereas an attack question (kushya), seeks to show that
(directly) some previous statement, or (indirectly) an implication thereof, is false or
needing qualification or superfluous, by means of an authoritative quotation or logic; such
questions may be quite long and composed by many components, each of which plays a
part in the whole attack. The answers to questions may accordingly provide the requested
information, or yield to an attack, by limiting the statement under attack, or making it
clearer somehow, or parry or counter-attack, by weakening or discrediting the attack
question somehow.
A rhetorical question, one with an ax to grind, of course may or may not succeed in its
intent to cause the rejection or adoption of a thesis: the intellectual impact of the whole discussion
must be considered to evaluate the final level of credibility of each side. Note well the common
faculty of logical intelligence which must perforce be assumed for all human beings, without which
no rational consensus could ever be attained.328

328

In this context, we should mention in passing the underlying assumption, adopted explicitly
by orthodox commentators, that the Talmudic participants had all the necessary data at their
disposal, exhausted the issues and drew the correct conclusions. In practice, this assumption has
proven hard to uphold even in orthodox circles, since later commentators (as in different periods of
the Talmud itself) have often enough found fault with Talmudic judgments. But in any case, such an

262

b.

JUDAIC LOGIC

Rabinowichs Talmudic Terminology.

1.
Rabinowichs work, which is my favourite, begins by studying the terminology
of the Mishnah itself. We may characterize some of it as analytical and some as
synthetical. Analytical terms may indicate what is included in or excluded from a
proposition, to what or when it applies329; or compare and contrast items, for such purposes
of classification; or order or hierarchize the various items under consideration, on some
basis or other; or suggest implications330. Synthetical terms may give inductive evidence or
counter-evidence, in support of or in opposition to a proposition331; or give some deductive
(or, at least, inductive) reason (taam) for or against a proposition332; or define the sequence
of development of concepts, as intellectual phenomena, or eventually as ethical precepts
(this is done through terms like lekhatechilah (prima facie) and bedieved (ex post facto),
discussed elsewhere333); or describe the parliamentary process through which the
authorities debated and eventually came to an agreement regarding some matter334.
These broad categories are, be it said, applicable to Gemara as well as to Mishnah;
however, the specific terms used to fulfill each investigative task differ considerably in the
two texts. Moving on to a study of the Gemaras terminology, we find a richer field
reflecting the increased complexity of its overall tasks, due to the fact that it is essentially a
commentary on the Mishnah.
2.
The Gemara seeks first to clarify the Mishnah through linguistic and logical
analysis. Such investigations proceed by means of queries335 which draw attention to an
issue, following which a reply of some sort is sought. The questions and answers have
standardized wordings for each kind of situation.
The analytic task of the Gemara is to determine the subject-matter precisely. It may
clarify the wording of a Mishnah, its choice of words and sentence construction,
progressively focusing on different details. Or it may make explicit the cross-references
within sentences; or endeavour to understand the meaning of a term or proposition: what
kind of thing it is intended to refer to; or clarify the scope of applicability of a term or
proposition: what instances or subcategories of instances it is supposed to include or
exclude, specifying any qualifications, limitations, unmentioned extensions, describing
exceptions or different cases. Or it may describe the case at hand, or its surrounding
context or underlying conditions, in more vivid detail.
assumption is impossible to uphold in theory, without recourse to a concept of miraculous
knowledge. (We have had occasion to consider these problems.)
329
Using expressions like all, except, there are n kinds of, and so forth.
330
As for instance the phrase zu veain tsarikh lomar zu signifies that an item listed later is
implicit in an item listed earlier (so that one may be surprised at the utility of such listing).
331
This, for example, may occur through the presentation of a relevant material case
(maaseh).
332
Such as a Torah passage (kra), a common-sense or empirical intervention (svara), or an
already established or generally accepted principle (klal).
333
In an ethical sense, these terms institute a distinction between two types of permission:
'may be done unhesitatingly' (lekhatechilah) and 'is acceptable only if already done' (bedieved).
334
Thus with terms like machloqet or stam, which tell us whether a given law gave rise to
dispute or not; and in the event of conflict, various specifications of the participants - named or
unnamed individuals, minority vs. majority, different schools.
335
Interrogations are usually rhetorical, so worded as to suggest answers. See further on.

APPENDICES

263

The synthetic task is to investigate the processes leading to or supporting the

Mishnah statement(s) at hand. Here, the Gemara labours to grasp the whys and wherefores
of a statement, what knowledge it adds, what goals motivated its formulation, and what
evidence or proof supports it, explicitly in the Scripture or indirectly by interpretation; or to
draw conclusions from given statements, by eduction, deduction or inductive methods like
generalization. Many of these concerns include issues relating to inter-rabbinical debate,
such as the distinction between Babylonian and Palestinian opinions or between
Babylonian schools, differences in the opinions of individual Rabbis or in the ways they
derive their opinions, reasons for dissent, questions of authorship, all of which give an
opinion a larger context.
Having determined what the Mishnah is saying, the Gemara then checks it for
consistency and draws inferences from it. The Gemara looks for hidden incoherences. A
Mishnah term, phrase or sentence may seem inappropriate or out of place in the context
(causing the Gemara to reinterpret the passage or add clauses). A Mishnah may use
different words for seemingly the same thing in the same passage or in different passages
(in the former case the Gemara regards them as equivalent, in the latter case as
incongruent). It may superfluously repeat something apparently already said or state the
obvious (in which event the Gemara may interpose some specific difference or possible
objection). A Mishnahs wording of a law or provision may appear overly vague or
incorrect to the Gemara (in which case the latter may emend or even put in doubt the
authenticity of the former).
The Mishnah may seemingly redundantly mention analogous cases side by side
(this is presumed by the Gemara to be in anticipation of possible objections due to minor
differences in the cases, implying such differences to be in fact incidental). The order of
presentation of classes may be surprising, in view of their habitual hierarchy. Or a listing of
cases may be surprising, in view of the a-fortiori inclusion of one in the other (in such
event, the intention is merely to emphasize the climax or anticlimax involved, the
hierarchy). The Gemara may consider a Mishnah list of the cases included in a category as
too limited; or notice that only some of a specified number of subcategories are listed; or
find the definition of a category too broad, due to omission of relevant differentia,
misleadingly suggesting more cases than intended. Or again, a Mishnah may present a rule
as general which is not really general according to the Gemara336.
Various sorts of conflict may be spotted in a Mishnah by the Gemara: a decision in
a Mishnah may be contrary to already established principle; or two parts of a Mishnah
seem to have incompatible implications; or there may be different decisions in two areas,
which should have been the same; or a conflict may be found between authoritative
passages; or a case may be presented which is contrary to the law preceding it. Such
inconsistencies are reconciled by assigning the conflicting passages different meanings or
applications, or different authors - which are constructed by the Gemara, backwards as-itwere, from the case under review.
Acknowledged disputes in the Mishnah are analyzed by the Gemara. The Gemara
may elucidate the reason why a Mishnah sage dissented, and the reply of his opponent(s) to
his objection, or, in the absence of an explicit reply, itself offer a reply. The Gemara may
contrast two or more seemingly identical legal opinions in the Mishnah, or point out the
different principles underlying conflicting opinions, possibly by inferring divergent
implications from them. Or it may indicate the areas of agreement between conflicting
opinions, and limit the differences between them to specific issues; or clarify why a certain
336

We have the same problem in English, where the word 'general' often means 'in most
cases' rather than 'in all cases'.

264

JUDAIC LOGIC

dispute in one case does not extend over to another case. The Gemara may focus on the
apparent inconsistency of a Mishnah disputant, who seems to take different positions in
two passages; it may suggest that, in one of the passages, he is reporting another sages
opinion (rather than his own) or that another sage is (wrongly) attributing an opinion to
him. The same may occur for two disputants, in which event their opinions in one of the
passages may be regarded as having been accidentally interchanged.
3.
The Gemara uses special words to quote from the various authoritative
documents or oral sources. Thus, the expressions matninan, tenan, among others, will
refer to Mishnaic sources; matnina, tenu rabanan, tanya, etc. to Baraitot; and for instance
tena, to Tosefta. A passage quoted is bound to be directly or indirectly relevant to the
presentation or discussion at hand, the purpose of such quotation being, for instances, to
illustrate or explain, support or undermine, qualify or amplify. After quoting a passage a
propos of some other topic, the Gemara may later return to it and discuss it further for its
own sake.
A memra is a reported teaching, opinion or decision of the Amoraim, i.e.
reported by an Amora in the name of another Amora (that is, Gemara sage). The report
may, according to the expression used, concern a single, undisputed statement (amar R.
Ploni337), or a single, contested statement, without its counter-thesis (R. Ploni amar), or a
controversy between two or more Amoraim (Itamar R. x amar ... R. y amar ...). The name
of the reporter may be given, and it may be made clear whether the report is direct (firsthand, oral transmission) or indirect (hearsay, via an intermediary).
A single memra may be received in the Gemara in a variety of ways. A memra may
seem superfluous, because already found explicitly in a Mishnah: but in such event, the
memra usually brings some additional new point. If the memra is only implicit in a
Mishnah, the duplication is not an objection to the memra, since it performs a useful
function and is corroborated by the Mishnah. If a memra is found to be corroborated by a
Baraita, one need not wonder at its superfluity, because an Amora is expected to know
every Mishnah, but not every Baraita. A memra may seem to be in conflict with a
Mishnah or Baraita, in which event the former may be rejected, unless the said conflict is
shown to be merely apparent. A memra may be brought in to confirm another memra (e.g.
a Babylonian supported by a Palestinian). If two Amoraim report opposite memras
regarding the same topic, the original authors of the conflicting positions will be assumed
two/different persons. A memras authenticity may be put in doubt by some other
participant, on the basis that its alleged author expressed different opinions elsewhere;
since both the reporter and the objector are Amoraim, their status is in principle equal, and
some reconciliation must be sought (though in some cases one side may win). A memra
may at first be strongly objected to, then finally admitted by the Gemara in rectified form
to allow for the objections.
A multiple memra, reporting conflicting opinions, may be variously dealt with in
the Gemara. The source of the conflict may be that a Mishnah expression was interpreted
in different ways or that the reason for a ruling was understood in different ways. Or the
dispute may reflect a doubt regarding the final decision in a case; or about some legal
principle not clearly stated, or concerning some subsidiary case not considered by the
Mishnah. The Gemara will look for and consider the different practical consequences of
each position, identifying points of agreement and eliminating them from the discussion.
The Gemara may then arbitrate (supporting one side, rejecting the other) with reference to
337

'R. Ploni' - refers to any given Rabbi, as we would say 'Mr. so and so'. Amar means 'said';
itamar, 'it was said'.

APPENDICES

265

a Mishnah or Baraita, or find therein support for both (or neither?), or subject the
arguments pro and con to evaluation by common-sense, or find reason to admit both sides
(no deep dispute being apparent, only a different case or circumstance of application), or
even remain undecided. Sometimes, the wording of the memra leaves unclear which of the
conflicting Amoraim held which of the two opinions: in such situations, and other doubtful
situations, the Gemara may look at previous pronouncements of the Amoraim in question,
to determine their previous lines of thought. Sometimes, the divergence between Amoraim
may be rooted in a similar divergence between Tanaim.
4.
Questions are often rhetorical, serving to put forward a foregone conclusion: an
intent to affirm (X is) may be cast in the form of a negative question (isnt X?); an intent to
deny (X is not) as a positive question (is X?). However, interrogations are usually waystations in the Gemaras inquiries. Four kinds are distinguished. (a) Questions expressing
astonishment at some unexpected statement or inquiry contrary to what is obvious; such
questions may serve as sufficient answer or may result in a more developed reply. (b)
Questions asking for the meaning, reason, sources or purpose of some statement or part
thereof. (c) Questions which raise an objection, pointing to a difficulty or conflict...
A retort to an objection is termed peruka (to redeem, rescue). A difficulty is termed kushya,
and its resolution, terutz; the latter may be a single thesis, or multiple theses (two or more
alternatives of equal force given), or a thesis offered then contested. A difficulty may, however,
remain without resolution. There are various kinds of disagreement, incongruity or contradiction.
Contrasts between statements of equal authority, such as two Scriptural passages or two Mishnah
and/or Baraita passages, are termed rumia (to cast in opposition). Conflicts of statement by an
Amora with the higher authority of a Tana are termed tiuvta (Aram.; Heb. equiv. teshuvah). A
distinction made, with reference to the cases or circumstances concerned, between statements
seemingly in conflict, to show their compatibility, is termed shinuia.
An objection may be countered by revealing a dilemma (ma nafshekha, what is your wish)
- such that one way or the other a similar objection (or defense) may be raised. Lo tsrikha signifies
the possibility of a further alternative, such as a middle ground, which dissolves the dilemma;
leolam (still, nevertheless) signifies the maintenance of one of the alternatives, though possibly with
small modifications338. An objection may, after attempted replies, be reinforced by a rejoinder,
which serves to invalidate proposed replies, showing them somewhat weakly argued, or not
sufficiently wide-ranging in their considerations, or merely relative to opinions not universally held.

(d) A question may be used to point out a problem (baayah) - that is, any sort of doubt with
regard to the interpretation of wording of a Mishnah, or the legal decision in a case (of
practical significance, yet not provided for in the Mishnah), or the source or reason for a
law. The solution, if any, is a Baraita or an Amoraic statement, and may be indicated by the
verb pashat. If no solution is found, they say teku (let it stand). Sometimes, problems
within the possible solutions to a problem are anticipated, to intensify the initial problem.
Sometimes the issues raised are simply ignored, being too petty or theoretical (unlikely to
arise in practice).
Various terms and phrases are used to introduce an argument, i.e. the reason
(taam) used to prove or disprove any matter. The argument may start with premise(s) or
with a conclusion. Direct arguments show the truth of something; indirect show the
falsehood of the contradictory (a sort of reductio ad absurdum). The following
classification of arguments is proposed. (a) Argument from authority, called proof or
evidence (rayah), are the overriding basis of Jewish law; this may comprise a Torah,
338

If one of the given alternatives is modified, however slightly, to dissolve the dilemma, it
becomes, of course, strictly-speaking, a new alternative. This should be emphasized.

266

JUDAIC LOGIC

Mishnah, or Baraita text or an Amoras teaching or a Sinai tradition or an established

principle339. (b) Argument from common sense (svara)340. (c) Argument from careful
analysis of construction and implication of law (diuqa), including inferences from positive
to negative or vice-versa, based on davqa reading of law. (d) Argument by analogy (heqesh
or dumia341), the similarity of two cases being used to extend a decision made in one case to
apply to the other case as well. (e) Argument a-fortiori (qal vachomer), by means of which
a laws applicability is extended from one case, where circumstances are less favorable, to
another, where they are more favorable; in Hagadah passages the expression used is al
achat kamah vekamah.342
Refutation means showing a proposition false: by disproving it (tiuvta, to reply), or
overthrowing the arguments supporting it, i.e. rebuttal (pirka, to break in pieces, dechiah,
to push over)343. Disproof may be direct, showing a conflict between the statement in
question and a Mishnah or Baraita, or indirect, showing that if the statement were accepted
then a certain Mishnah or Baraita would have been expressed differently or would be
unexplained. Rebuttal depends for its method on the type of argument attacked. If the
argument is by authority, it is shown to be based on misunderstanding of the passage it
refers to; or it is shown that the passage refers to other cases than those under
consideration; or it is shown that the passage referred to is not authoritative, being an
individual opinion not accepted by all. If the argument is by common-sense, it is shown
that its approach is logically faulty or another approach is shown better (adaraba..., on the
contrary...); sometimes, note, the objection raised is mild/polite, not strong/decided, it is
merely pointing out a certain possibility which could invalidate an argument, showing that
alternative approaches are available, without implying these to be superior or exclusive or
established. If the argument is by construction or implication, it is shown too arbitrary,
since the same construction or implication applied elsewhere (to another clause of the same
passage) could lead to contradictions (between the conclusions drawn from the two
clauses); such rejections are often found in Talmud344. If the argument is by analogy, the
resemblance between the cases equated is shown superficial, significant differences
between them having been overlooked. If argument is indirect, it is shown that a similar
objection as was raised by the argument can be raised against the argument itself or its
conclusion. Many arguments are rebutted by showing that their implications are excessive
in some way, leading to inadmissible side-conclusions in addition to the conclusions aimed
at.
Besides minor discussions, consisting of punctual questions and answers,
objections and rejoinders, etc., there are more elaborate debates (pilpul345) in the Gemara,
339

It is not clear to me how the last two subcategories can differ from those which precede
them: how is a tradition or a principle known other than through a textual or oral report? and at what
point is a tradition or principle regarded as "generally accepted" enough?
340
It is not clear to me what distinguishes this category from the next three. In any case, the
form of reasoning is unspecified (deductive, inductive; categorical, hypothetical, disjunctive;
syllogism, production, apodosis, etc.); it may be, since the author may not know these things, that
the varied wording indicates some formal distinctions - but I doubt it, offhand.
341
I wonder if there is a difference between these two words.
342
Why are the other of the Thirteen Midot not included in this list?
343
In the case of pirka, note that one has to be careful of the fallacy of denying the
antecedent! i.e. If argument, then conclusion; but not argument; therefore, not conclusion - is
fallacious. The author seems to ignore this danger.
344
P. 69.
345
This term, 'pilpul', acquired pejorative connotations in later times, when it was used to
denote expositions of the law based on hair-splitting distinctions, creating artificial 'problems' whose
eventual 'solutions' merely served to demonstrate one's dialectical skills. This form of study started

APPENDICES

267

usually concerning the interpretation or applications of a law or the development of a new

general principle. These debates were between equal members of an academy or a teacher
and his prominent disciples. Only the names of important participants are mentioned in the
text, the rest remaining anonymous. The list of pilpul debaters is on the whole rather
limited; for the rest, their discussions are more restricted in scope.

c.

The Ramchals Ways of Reason.

The two books above are modern, though quite traditional presentations of Talmud
heuristics. It is worth our while to look also into a rather older work, The Ways of Reason
(in Hebrew, Derech Tevunot) by R. Moshe Chaim Luzatto, also known by the acronym
RaMChaL346. What distinguishes this work (in my view) is that it purports to be at once an
aid to Talmud study and a discourse on logic - a logic resembling, and no doubt influenced
by, Western logic of Greek origin.
The Ramchal was born in Italy early in the 18th century, later emigrating to the
Netherlands347, and in his brief life-span of four decades, he wrote several books on various
subjects (ethics, theodicy, Qabalah), which have deservedly become classics and are still
widely read in Jewish religious circles today. His work is distinguished by its clarity of
exposition, and the ability to organize and order traditional ideas. The Ways of Reason is an
intelligent, readable work, on the whole; but exceptionally for the Ramchal, I am sorry to
say, it has many serious flaws - perhaps he wrote it in a rush348.
The Ramchal seems to be to some extent acquainted with Aristotelian thought, but
not as fully as one might expect from a reading of the latters works. Most important, the
Ramchal seems totally unaware of the formal-symbolic method of logical analysis which
Aristotle inaugurated; his approach is to describe features and processes in general terms,
and appose examples from the Talmud. Consequently, his logic is a mere sketch, at best an
outline, of the subject, apparently without awareness of some deeper issues in it (like,
validation), and without an acquaintance with the technical tools which had been
developed by that time (like, squares of opposition); also, he does not systematize, nor
make exhaustive analyses. On the other hand, his range is somewhat wider than that of
logicians up to his time, evidently because of his Talmudic background.
In his listings of logical tools and processes, the Ramchal tends to mix apples and
oranges. All propositions are put on the same level; they are not classified with reference to
their structural differences, nor are their structural relationships brought out. Thus, for
in Poland with R. Yacov Polack (1460-1530), and was looked down on by many authorities; it
persists still today in some circles.
346
I had occasion to read his book while at a Yeshivah a few years ago, and made a few
rough notes about it, which I used to write the following comments; but it should be said that I do
not have the volume itself under my eyes as I now finalize these comments.
347
If I remember rightly.
348
Let me say in passing that the English translation that I read, by Rabbis D. Sackton and
Ch. Tscholkowski, is not very good. They did not take the trouble to study the widely accepted
terminology, and so tend to confuse a reader who has already absorbed it. For instances, they use
the word "categorical" instead of general or universal; the word "particular" instead of singular; the
word "partial" instead of particular; or again, the word "unqualified" instead of unquantified.
Likewise, what the translators label "diametrically opposed", trained logicians call contradictory; and
what they label "contradictory", we call contrary. I will just ignore such deviations and discuss the
content using accepted terminology (and perhaps mention theirs in brackets and inverted
commas).

268

JUDAIC LOGIC

instance, we find (in ch. 3) an inventory which lumps together actual categoricals
(simples, according to the translators), modal categoricals (qualifieds), exclusives,
exceptives, ethical conditionals (conditionals), hypotheticals, propositions with two or
more subjects or predicates in conjunction or disjunction (compounds), and others still.
There is no analysis of the features of these propositions, no groupings are attempted, no
explanations given.
The doctrine of oppositions and eductions of the Ramchal (in ch. 4) is complicated
by his attempt to compare propositions with different terms. Obviously, his frame of
reference is Talmudic debates; there, propositions with different subjects and/or different
predicates are dynamically interrelated; the Ramchal seeks to address these practical issues
immediately. But in Aristotelian logic, such issues cannot be dealt with directly; it is only
at a later stage, through the theory of the syllogism, that they can be formally resolved349.
It is interesting that (in ch. 5) the Ramchal adopts the Talmudic, rather than the
Aristotelian, interpretation of particular propositions (i.e. as definite, rather than indefinite).
That is, some X are Y excludes all X are Y and includes some X are not Y. He does
not, however, so far as I recall, make a distinction between deductive and inductive
contexts, nor realize that the said relations are sometimes in the last analysis overturned.
With regard to syllogistic argument, I find no fault in what he says, except that he does not
say much (see ch. 7). There is no discussion of the figures of the syllogism, or of its
various moods, nor of the processes of validation - yet these matters are the most
impressive achievements of Aristotelian logic.
This is what is missing throughout the Ramchals treatise: formalization,
systematization and exhaustiveness. Did he not know all about the syllogism? Perhaps he
never read about it, but merely learnt a little on the subject by word of mouth or absorbed it
osmotically from the surrounding culture of his time.
The Ramchal additionally mentions some other forms of mediate inference,
including apodosis (hypothetical or disjunctive syllogism). He mentions argument by
analogy: X1 is like X2, in that they are both Y, and X2 is Z, whence X1 is Z, pointing out
that such arguments can be rebutted. As well, he mentions a-fortiori argument, in the form:
X1 is greater than X2, and X2 is Y, therefore X1 is Y; we may notice, however (see
chapter 3 of the present volume), that the middle term which explains and justifies the
process, being the respect in which X1 and X2 are compared, is lacking, and also that he is
not apparently aware of the formal varieties of the argument (but the form of his argument
is correct, as a positive subjectal).350
For the Ramchal, logic is something we grasp intuitively (ch. 1). He distinguishes
literal truth from the allusive, the figurative, the hyperbolic (ch. 6). He is sensitive to the
dynamics of reasoning (ch. 8, 9). He is aware of many of the categories which our
conceptual faculties tend to refer to (ch. 10, 11).
If the purpose of Ways of Reason is to give Jewish students of the Talmud a raised
awareness of the underlying logical issues, then I would say that it is valuable. It is not a copy-cat
compilation, but a thinking mans reflections on the subject. If however those who read it think that
they are getting a proper concept of what the body of knowledge called the science of Logic has to
349

We could, indeed, expand the theory of factorial induction, to deal with combinations of
propositions with terms forming syllogistic patterns. In this perspective, syllogisms with one
conclusion are deductive, those with two or more possible conclusions are inductive. In the latter
cases, where there are a plurality of conclusions, the conclusions may have formally different
degrees of probability, so that one may be ab initio preferable to the others. This work is yet to be
done systematically.
350
Note that all symbols introduced here are my own.

APPENDICES

269

offer (or even, had to offer, in the Ramchals time), I would say they are misled351. There is more to
the subject than Ways of Reason lets on. The book is interesting, but not necessarily the best primer.
Its chief advantage is the kind of examples it gives; but there are better organized and thorough
teaching tools today. Students can always find appropriate examples for themselves, in the way of
an exercise.

5.

The Hebrew Language.

Logic and language are intimately bound up in Jewish thought. Interpretation of

holy texts for the derivation of laws presupposes a profound acquaintance with the Hebrew
language, in its every little detail; its spelling, its grammar, its etymologies, its every living
nuance352. Judaism has for a very long time, if not from the outset, openly claimed a deep
relation between (most) words and things, deeper than the common wisdom that words are
all merely arbitrary labels, mentally attached to our ideas about things.
To be sure, logicians nowadays have a sense that there is close bond between the
phenomena of language and those of logic, but it is not quite clear to anyone why that should be. For
thought seems to be possible without words; modern psychologists acknowledge the existence of
subconscious, even unconscious, thoughts. Certainly, the peculiarities of a language can
occasionally force those who use it to think in patterns which are not logically necessary; and even
though, in most cases, such distortions can fortunately be bypassed by careful rephrasing (or
parenthetical explanations and disclaimers), people do not always correct the effect, and cultural
habits of thought may indeed emerge. But there may be still deeper structural forces at work, in the
mind and its physiological supports, which shape both the thoughts and the language in which they
are expressed, and in their variations produce different cultures.

Let us consider the genesis of the Jewish ideas about language, in its main lines.
First, within Jewish tradition. In the very first chapter of the Torah, which describes
the Creation, we find the sentence (in verse 3): And God said: let there be light, and there
was light. God created by saying. In a sense, then, words were among the first creations,
at least preceding the creation of light (and, similarly, other phenomena mentioned
thereafter); and they were used as effective instruments for the creation of what they
referred to353. And since the original report of these events, in the Torah, is in Hebrew:

351

I am an admirer of the Ramchal's other works, but in this case I am rather disappointed. If I
seem critical, my intent is constructive; I am not provocatively looking for faults, but trying to make a
fair evaluation.
352
To a large extent, our knowledge of Hebrew is only acquired through analysis of its use in
the Torah itself, for instance by medieval Spanish-Jewish grammarians; but Hebrew has also
remained a living language in restricted circles through the centuries of our dispersion, until its
Zionist revival in modern times.
353
The idea that the world was created through words is found also, seemingly independently,
in Indian philosophy. "Sound" vibrations are there considered the building blocks and ultimate
essences of matter. Knowing since Newtonian physics that sound is in fact transmitted by the
vibrations of atoms, and is absent in a vacuum, this Indian notion would seem discredited or at
least in need of modification. However, the Indian idea is probably based on meditative
experiences, which means that it refers to mental sound, i.e. the sound proper inside the head after
the ear-drums have done their work. Such sound can also be produced by the imagination, and
therefore may conceivably antedate matter. The Christian Bible begins with the sentence "In the
beginning was the Word..." (John 1,1), which is regarded as derived from Judaism and Greek
Stoicism, via the 'Logos' concept Philo of Alexandria (c. 20 BCE-c. 50 CE).

270

JUDAIC LOGIC

Vayomer: yehi ohr, it may well be assumed that the language in which God spoke these
words was the same.
The Qabalah (the mystical tradition) drew on this evidence in the Torah, according to
which words preceded other things, to justify its view of the Torah as antedating the material and
spiritual Universe, and as having effectively served as its blueprint in the Makers mind. We are
taught: just as a human architect needs a plan before he can build, so divine acts are preceded by
divine ideas354.

In the second chapter of the Torah, we are told (v. 19-20) that after the Lord God
formed the beasts of the field and fowl of the air, He brought them unto the man to see
(lirot) what he would call them; and whatsoever the man would call every living creature,
that was to be the name thereof. And the man gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of
the air, and to every beast of the field.355 This report, taken alone, could be taken as a
support for the theory of words as man-made conventions; but I have seen commentaries
which interpret it more radically, in view of the preceding report concerning creation
through words. Note that Adam is reported as, specifically, understanding Hebrew (e.g.
Genesis 1:28) and speaking it (e.g. 2:23).
According to some Jewish commentators, the first chapter teaches us that Hebrew
words somehow reflect the essences of things; in that case, the second chapter teaches us
that Adam was able to directly apprehend the names in things (what he would call them).
The phrase to see356 could be understood as simply referring to the Lord God, observing
the mans reactions, in the way of an act of quality control; in which event, the sentence
And the man gave names would be explained as an affirmation of the efficacy of his
perceptual/conceptual intuition of the essences: he uttered the correct names, and thereby
confirmed his mental faculties. But the alternative commentary interprets to see with
reference to the man, as seeing, in the sense of intuiting, the word-essences imbedded in
objects (what philosophers would call the universals, plus a verbal component).
These explanations suggest that words have, not only an audible and utterable
sound, but also a visible shape; they have two aspects or components, which are
metaphysically allied, rather than accidentally paired together. The sound and shape of
words are, in that case, two expressions of an identical phenomenon.357 We may find
further Biblical confirmation of this concept in Exodus 20:15, they saw the
thunderings..., which Rashi interprets as meaning that the Children of Israel reached a
cognitive level where they could see the visible aspect of sounds. The shapes in question,
according to Jewish tradition, consist of Hebrew letters, in the very form found today in
our Torah scrolls.

354
See, for instance, Scholem.
355
Note however that plants and minerals are not mentioned. As I recall, the reason for this
given by commentators, no doubt on the basis of the rest of verse 20, i.e. "but for Adam there was
not found a help meet for him," is that Adam was, as he named things, considering their potential
as mates. While the animal world could be imagined as fit for that role, the vegetal and mineral
could obviously not.
356
In 2:19, above quoted.
357
I seem to recall books on Jewish mysticism explaining the phenomenon in question as a
fundamental vibration of some sort. Whether these are relatively recent, and products of Christian
and ultimately Oriental influences, or original Jewish ideas, I do not know. The question requires
much more study than I have put into it. It is interesting that the Heb. word devarim may mean
"things" or "words".

APPENDICES

271

Note well the claim by tradition that the beautiful so-called Ashuri script was the original
form of Hebrew. Historians would rather consider as more ancient the somewhat different and more
primitive-looking Hebrew alphabet, which archeology shows was popularly used in early times and
which seems to have been the source of derivative Greek, Latin and Arabic alphabets. The
characteristic answer of tradition is that the Ashuri style was esoteric, lost to the crowd but kept alive
by a select few.358

Furthermore, the Torah teaches us that, at the time of the Tower of Babel story,
the whole earth was of one language (lit. sfat, tongue) and of one speech (lit. devarim,
words) (11:1). The Torah narrative continues, concerning the children of men, the Lord
said:... they have all one language; and then, in view of peoples misbehavior, he decided
to confound their language (sfat), that they may not understand (lit. yishmeu, hear) one
anothers speech (more precisely, sfat, i.e. language) (11:6-7). This episode, together with
what we mentioned previously, gave rise to the Jewish doctrine that all languages stemmed
from Hebrew.
Incidentally, tongue may refer to the physical and mental apparatus, the faculties, which
make possible the articulation of words; this would explain why it is reported that peoples
tongues, rather than words, were confounded. Differences arose in the pronunciation of words by
different human families, with the letters in words changing to others (like the Japanese saying r
instead of l when they speak English), or being reshuffled, added or dropped; and eventually in the
connotations and then denotations of words. However, empirically, differences such as those in
accent seem to be largely acquired rather than hereditary, and evidently we were left with the power
to learn each others languages (and, in some cases, imitate each others accents).359

The Torah as a whole is of course a written document. But the first explicit mention
of writing within the Torah seems to be in Exodus 17:14 (I have verified it in a
concordance). The Lord says to Moses: Write (ktav) this for a memorial in the book
(sefer)... I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven. The text
does not imply that this is the first time (it was in the 13th century BCE) that writing was
ever used by men. Note that Moses already knew how to write (though he could
conceivably have just been taught the art). Writing is again mentioned (24:4,7) in the
context of Moses writing of the Book of Covenant (which according to Ibn Ezra
contained ch. 20-23 of Exodus); with regard to the first tables of the Law, written by the
Lord (24:12) God (31:18, 32:15-16); and so forth.
However, Sforno interprets the word vayakam (arose, was made sure) in Genesis
23:17 as referring to a signed deed of purchase, suggesting that the first implicit use of
writing in the Torah was at the time of Abraham360. In any case, the Zohar considers that
358
I found this argument in Munk, but it is also taught orally in some yeshivot. Lewittes just
says that the script used for Torah scrolls in Moses' time was the ancient Canaanite, and that it was
Ezra who had it replaced by the Assyrian script current in his own days (p. 43). The Talmudic
references given are Sanhedrin 21b and J.T. Megillah 1:11. The insistence of orthodox
commentators that the script used today is the original is needed to justify certain mystical
interpretations of the shape of letters, and perhaps also some of the strict laws relating to writing of
Torah scrolls in force today; but from a secular point of view the hypothesis of changes of script
seems more credible. It should be pointed out, in support of the latter, that scripts used for Torah
scrolls have demonstrably varied in recent centuries and from place to place: even today,
Sephardim and Ashkenazim use different styles; for this, see the Enc. Jud.
359
Similarly, the graphical differences, which developed later, between the scripts of different
language groups, might reflect varying artistic abilities (sensory-motor faculties) in the various
human families, as well as environmentally-induced esthetic responses.
360
See Cohen, p. 121. Though I did look into Sforno's actual commentary, and asked many
people, I still do not understand today the justification of this inference.

272

JUDAIC LOGIC

calligraphy of the aleph-bet was known even earlier, to the first man, since Adam is
reported in it to have even known that five of the Hebrew letters (kaf, mem, nun, peh,
tsadee) have a different shape at the beginning and at the end of words; according to the
same source this knowledge was lost, until the time of Abraham, who revived it by
inspiration.
All the above ideas had a strong, long influence beyond Judaism, notably on Christian and
European thought (and also, presumably, on Islamic and Arab thought). Philosophically, these ideas
had an innate credibility which was hard to ignore: they explained the power of language to
recapture reality and its various but related expressions, in different human groups as well as
across time following changes in perception. The ideas that languages had one origin, and that it was
namely Hebrew, were accepted from the inception of the daughter religion until the Renaissance.
Thereafter, gradually, with the birth and development of the branch of philosophy/science
known as philology, the idea was viewed more and more critically361. More recently, the latter
discipline has become known as linguistics, having come to include broader aims and methods,
such as physiological, psychological, ethnological, sociological and historical studies362.
Allegedly, science adopted a less prejudiced and more empirical approach, which resulted
in the fragmenting of human language into geographic/genetic clusters, known as families, each of
which evolved from a presumed proto-language, such as Hamito-Semitic or Indo-European363. With
regard to the origins of the alphabet, for their part, secular historians, like F.M. Cross Jr., on the
basis of archaeological discoveries, acknowledge that the art of writing by means of an alphabet
originated in the Near East, at the latest in the 17th century BCE (it did not reach Greece until over a
millennium later, incidentally). They do not, however, all admit Hebrew script to have been the
first364.
In fairness, whatever the true history of the alphabet, we must still keep in mind what
historians teach us, that literacy arose well before its appearance. In other words, even if the
alphabetic mode of writing was invented about during the time of the Patriarch Abraham, it still
remains a fact that people were writing - using less sophisticated writing systems - before that time,
for well over a millennium, and the genius this implies must be acknowledged. However if, as
Jewish tradition suggests, the alphabet was merely revived at that time, having existed previously in
a relatively widespread manner and then gone underground as the domain of a more restricted elite,
then the idea of writing need not be attributed to the inventors of non-alphabetic systems, they
merely invented specific shapes.
Concerning the history, I refer to McEvedy365: Early writing was done by inscription on
stone (this is known as epigraphy). The Sumerian so-called transitional script, involving pictograms
(pictorial representations of concrete objects), ideograms (conveying a more abstract idea relating to
the objects), phonograms (transferring the reader over to other objects with similar sounds in their
names, as does the rebus), and determinatives (unpronounced signs serving to switch the reader to a
subsidiary class or sound of object), was in existence at the end of the fourth millennium (BCE).
The Elamites and Egyptians came out with imitations (using other, distinct symbol collections)
soon after 3000; the not-yet deciphered Indus Valley script would appear likewise to be a
development from the Sumerian transitional.

361
The story of this shift in the Western viewpoint is ably told in Foucault's Les mots et les
choses.
362
See Akmajian, et al.
363
See The Living Webster Encyclopedic Dictionary of the English Language. Also, Akmajian,
et al.
364
See Horowitz. Or better still, the Encyclopaedia Judaica article 'Alphabet, Hebrew'. I
perceive in the insistent attribution of the invention of the alphabet to the Phoenicians, on the basis
of Greek reports that they learnt it from them, an unfair prejudice, concealing some anti-Jewish
tendencies. I mean, the early literary heritage of Jews (the Torah) substantiates the latter's strong
affinity to written language; while Phoenicians were but a trading and pirating people, hardly likely
to develop such a refined tool.
365
Pp. 26, 36, 44. See also Mitchell, pp. 31-35.

APPENDICES

273

The Sumerians eventually moved to a less pictorial script, consisting of wedge-shaped

marks (impressed into clay tablets) and known as cuneiform. This method was adopted by
Akkadians for their own language, in the second half of the third millennium, soon after by the
Elamites (who abandoned their own transitional script), and much later, through the Assyrians, by
the Hittites, Amorites and other peoples. The Egyptians starting with pictorial hieroglyphs (so-called
because used predominantly by priests), developed a more cursive script known as hieratic, which
they wrote with brush and ink on papyrus (without however giving up on hieroglyphic writing).
McEvedy adds: the remarkable feature of the Egyptian script was that only the consonants were
represented.
The cuneiform and hieroglyphic initially consisted of monosyllabic (e.g. mom) or even
disyllabic (e.g. mother) symbols. By about the beginning of the sixteenth century, these were
gradually replaced by open syllabaries, which being restricted to consonant-vowel syllables (e.g.
ma), reduced the number of symbols from hundreds to a mere eighty or so. The Hittites and
eteoCypriotes developed such scripts (perhaps based on the pseudo-hieroglyphs of Byblos); and it
is then thought that Minoan Linear-A script derived from that of the eteoCypriotes (though both are
unreadable still, and thought to be open syllabaries only based on the number of signs they
employ), and the Achaeans Linear-B from the Minoans. These kinds of scripts remained in use for
centuries.
The consonantal alphabet, a Syro-Palestinian invention, seems to have appeared
thereafter; this further reduced to about twenty the number of signs symbolizing consonants without
vowels (e.g. m). However, it may be, because there are consonantal alphabets both in cuneiform
(Ugaritic script) and in a cursive based on Egyptian hieroglyphs (early Canaanite and Sinai script)
and some examples of early Canaanite are estimated as dating from as far back as the eighteenth
century, that the evolutionary sequence was the reverse and the open syllabary was in fact an
expanded version of the consonantal alphabet for languages in which vowels were unpredictable
(unlike Semitic languages in which vowels occur in regular relation to the consonants). By the
ninth century, the early Canaanite has evolved into the north Semitic and split into the Phoenician
(with a distinct variant for Hebrew) and the Aramaic scripts, and separately into the South Arabian
script.

Now, in my view, there is nothing inherently unreasonable in the Biblical thesis

that one language and one alphabet (these are separate issues, of course) are at the root of
all others. The idea is not obvious or inevitable. One could equally have supposed, and
many ancients no doubt did so and many scholars today would tend to, that languages
arose spontaneously and differently in diverse geographical locations; such a supposition is
all the more easy with regard to alphabets. The issue is conceptually very similar, and
somewhat allied, to the issue of human origins: are we all descended from common
ancestors, as the Torah story of Adam and Eve affirms366, or are different peoples different
species?367
With regard to human origins, I imagine that it would be statistically well-nigh
inconceivable that the various peoples arose/evolved in the world independently of each
other, and yet accidentally ended-up with such overwhelmingly similar physiologies. With
regard to the origins of language and alphabet, admittedly, the etymological relationships
are not all immediately manifest and considerable study is required, but in any case the
issue can and must be decided by the scientific method with reference to the evidence.
366
Note in passing that any calculations by science of population growth, or of possibilities of
genetic variation, to test Biblical claims, would have to proceed not from Adam time but from the
Deluge, since at that point there were solitary pairs (or seven pairs in some cases, but the extras
may have been sacrificed according to tradition) of land animals and birds (though not of fish) and
a limited number of human beings, namely Noach and his family.
367
In this context, comes to mind The Urantia Book (anonymous; I lack the publishing
information, but I would place it, on the basis of its ideas and the cultural context in which it made
its appearance, North American New Age, as having been written and published probably by exCatholics in the 1960's or 1970's). I actually read this book many years ago, but about all that
remains of it in my mind is its seeming radical division of mankind into unrelated racial groups.

274

JUDAIC LOGIC

Note that if the idea of a root language was, as some imply, merely a Jewish hypothesis
(rather than Divinely revealed), it was by no means ingenuous, but truly ingenious. The claim
reflected Jewish universalism, rather than a racist/nationalist particularism, because even though the
original language was supposed to have been Hebrew, Judaism considers the Jewish people to have
arisen quite late in world history, more than a century after the Confusion of Tongues incident368.
Thus, the Jewish people have only considered themselves to be the trustees of the most ancient
language and alphabet, not the inventors thereof.

It should also be clear that the thesis that there is one root language is not contrary
to the current belief in proto-languages for language families (Indo-European, etc.), since it
is conceivable that the proto-languages themselves have a common parent. If human
groups had a common parentage, then their languages probably had a common parentage,
reflecting the means of thought and communication of the very first human group369. The
question, of course, remains: which parent? It may or not be Hebrew, or a Hebrew-like
ancestor. Just as, say, Indo-European was projected by extrapolation from certain known
languages (English, Latin, Greek, Sanskrit, etc.), with reference to their common properties
and certain regularities in their differences (see for instance, Grimms Law), so
correspondences between proto-languages may be sought, and might well be found in
Hebrew.
It should be noted in passing that there is so far no archeological evidence of the actual
existence of proto-languages in some distant past (at least, not in the case of Indo-European); which
is not surprising, since they are not assumed to have been written languages. Their existence is a
scientific hypothesis, which so far seems justified. Furthermore, note, the similarities and
differences, on the basis of which languages are grouped into families and distinguished from others,
concern not simply vocabulary, but grammar too (e.g. inflection).

In conclusion, efforts being made to find a common root are in no way illegitimate
or absurd, but certainly worthy of consideration. Especially worthy of mention, in this
context, is the work of Mozeson of Yeshiva University. Not content to merely affirm in
general terms, with a few examples, the Hebrew sources of (for example) the English
language, as others had done before him370, this author indefatigably set about constructing
a detailed etymological dictionary, with umpteen examples, and identified many
regularities in the transition from one language to the other.
Abehsera adopted a less doctrinaire, more phenomenological approach, and perhaps
ranged a bit more widely into various languages (though never in as much detail). Instead
of taking at the outset the radical position that Hebrew was the root of all other languages
(and while not denying that doctrine), he proposed a method: that two dictionaries be
constructed, one of all the homonyms (words which are similar, but may have different
meanings), and one of all the synonyms (words which are different, but have the same
meaning); and this, not only for each language, but for all languages lumped together. He
went on to describe, with examples, the kinds of associations which may generate
368
The patriarch Jacob was born in 2108 After Creation; the Confusion of Tongues occurred
112 years earlier in 1996 AC, according to Rabbinic inferences from the Torah text itself.
369
It is very significant, in this context, that the reconstructed proto-languages are not
considered as having been more primitive than today's languages, e.g. consisting of a number of
grunts, whistles and groans, or at least of very simple words and constructions, but rather they
emerge as fully expressive verbal vehicles (see Akmajian, et al, p. 354). One might argue that this
is due to proto-languages being mere imaginary averages of known languages; but it militates for
the Biblical notion that early man was able to think and communicate fully.
370
e.g. Glazerson.

APPENDICES

275

homonyms and synonyms, and gave interesting suggestions concerning their psychological
undercurrents.
A combination of the approaches of Mozeson and Abehsera would seem best, because the
former seems to have a more thorough technical experience, while the latter comes with more
systematic strategies. It is clear that the proposed collections of homonyms and synonyms (and
eventually antonyms, one might add) should not be naive, but take account of Grimms Law type of
changes, referring principally to consonants, considering their substitutions, reorderings, additions
and subtractions. Furthermore, vocabulary is not all of language, but grammatical construction must
be taken into account. The programme may seem grandiose, but perhaps today with the use of
computers such an effort becomes conceivable.

Another work worth mentioning in the same context is Biberfelds Universal

Jewish History. This is an older work, written and published in four volumes over a period
of nearly forty years. It is unfortunately rather badly written, in my opinion, being
crammed with repetitive notes; but one would wish someone would rewrite it briefly and to
the point, and make its message available to the general public and to eventual researchers.
Its purpose was to demonstrate that the Jewish traditions about language as such, and
specifically written language (as well as similar traditions concerning the Noachide roots
of the legal systems of the Nations), are compatible with available concrete archaeological
evidence, as much as if not more so than some of the theses proposed by modern scholars.
This is an issue which, of course, must always be addressed.

6.

Further Notes on Harmonization Rules.

In this appendix, we shall examine some examples of kol davar shehayah bikhlal
veyatsa exegesis, which the Rabbis, in my view, misclassify.
1.
The goring ox. This example is given by Abitbol (quoting Mekhilta, Baba Qama
4:5), under the heading of rule No. 10, shelo kheinyano. As we will show (using the
terminology established in the main body of the present work), it should rather have been
classed as shehu kheinyano. It is best expressed in implicational form.
The law is found in Exod. 21:28-32, and concerns the penalty the owner of an ox
must pay, if the ox kills someone after he, the master, had been warned of the oxs violent
propensities. If the ox kills a man or woman, then the oxs master deserves death but pays a
ransom for his life (major premise). If the ox kills a male or female slave, then the oxs
master pays the slaves owner 30 silver shekels (minor premise)371. The conclusion of the
Rabbis is that the penalty in the latter case, replaces rather than supplements, the penalty in
the former case; which means that the major premise is somewhat particularized (the man
or woman it refers to are, specifically, not a male or female slave).
The minor antecedent (P2) implies, but is not implied by, the major antecedent
(P1), since the major antecedents predicate (kills man or woman) includes, but is not
included by, the minor antecedents predicate (kills male or female slave), while the two
371

According to Rashi: the ox is only an example, the same laws apply to other owned
animals. The ox is known to be dangerous, because he has attacked people three times. The slave
is a gentile. The 30 shekels are charged, whatever the market value of the slave, i.e. be it more or
less than that. Note that if the ox's owner was not warned, he is not liable. Note also that the ox is
to be stoned; since that clause is applicable in either case, it is irrelevant to the argument.

276

JUDAIC LOGIC

antecedents have the same subject (ox); this is our antecedental premise, fulfilling one of
the conditions for kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa exegesis. The consequents of the two
premises (Q1, Q2) are clearly compatible, since they have the same subject (oxs master)
and their predicates could both be applied to it (it is physically possible for a man to both
pay a ransom for his own life and pay 30 shekels for the slave), and this compatibility is
not one of implication (since, whatever the amounts involved, the motives are different,
one being explicitly specified as self-redemption, while the other appears to be a
compensation for a property loss); this is our consequental premise, which fulfills the
specific condition of shehu kheinyano exegesis.
The Rabbinic response, in this instance at least, is as follows. The major premise is
particularized, i.e. it is read anti-literally, in order that its predicate not be applied to the
minor subject; and the minor premise is not generalized, i.e. it is read exclusively, in order
that its predicate not be applied to the rest of the major subject (even if, perhaps, some
other species of the major subject behave like the minor subject, not all do). This result is
not deductively imposed on us; but only possible. It cannot be deduced from the original
premises, since it is in fact contrary to one of them (the major); nor was it called for by the
original premises (including the predicatal), since they involved no conflict needing
resolution. So, from the formal point of view, its adoption was an arbitrary act; or, more
generously, an inductive postulate.
In material terms, it would not have been inconceivable for the Rabbis to require
the master, in the case of a gored slave, to pay both penalties (note this well372). That they
did not do so, seems in a wider context reasonable, insofar as slaves are customarily
viewed as inferior to free persons, so that the death of a slave is less serious than that of a
free person. But the latter principle is a separate generalization, which cannot be used to
confirm the Rabbis conclusion, since it itself ultimately depends on that conclusion (and
others like it). Furthermore, one can imagine another cultural context, in which the slave,
because less socially important and thus more readily victimized, has more legal
protection; so the Rabbinic conclusion is not formally inevitable.
Note that, even though we know what, in this instance, the traditional conclusion is; and we
know indubitably that the exegesis is objectively shehu kheinyano; nevertheless, we cannot say with
certainty that this sort of conclusion is typical for the situation described, namely where the subjects
are subalternative and the predicates are compatible without either implying the other. For the
Rabbis evidently misclassified the case, as shelo kheinyano; so it is conceivable that, had they
perceived the case correctly, they may have responded with another sort of conclusion. For where
the predicates are incompatible, it is natural to keep them apart; but where, as here, they are
compatible, it would be artificial to do so (granting all other things equal). We cannot legitimately,
therefore, generalize from this case, and say that in all shehu kheinyano situations (where the
predicates are compatible, etc.), the conclusion has to be a mirror image of that in shelo kheinyano
situations (where the predicates are incompatible, etc.).

2.
The manslayer. This example is given by Abitbol (quoting Rashi) and by
Scherman, under the heading of rule No. 9, shehu kheinyano. As we will show, it should
rather have been classed as shelo kheinyano. It may be expressed in copulative form.
Major premise: Lev. 24:21 sentences to death a person who kills someone (without
distinguishing between intentional and accidental killing). Minor premise: Deut. 19:3-6
372

Abitbol's claim that the predicates are incompatible, because the first is a variable amount
(x, determined by the court) and the second is a fixed amount (30 sh.) does not hold water: what
counts is that it is undeniably physically possible to be subject to both amounts (x+30). I mean, any
two things you chose are bound to have differences; that in itself does not make them incapable of
coexistence.

APPENDICES

277

prescribes for the manslayer, such as373 a person chopping wood who accidentally kills
someone, a penalty of exile in a city of refuge. The conclusion drawn by the Rabbis is that
manslaughter is subject to exile, but not to execution; so that not all killing, but only
murder, is subject to the death penalty (particularization of the major premise). This
conclusion is plausible, but the technical explanation traditionally given for it is
inappropriate.
The Rabbis claim that this conclusion proceeds from R. Ishmaels statement that
the minor term (manslayer) was singled out from the major term (killer) to be more lenient
(exile) rather than more severe (death). They (see Scherman) imply that, were it not for that
statement, we might have thought that both predicates are to be applied to the minor term.
But, though exile can conceivably be combined with execution (in that sequence, though
not the reverse), the full text (Deut.) clearly specifies that the manslayer shall flee unto
one of these cities and live and he was not deserving of death. Whence, the predicates
in fact involved are indubitably incompatible (contrary), and R. Ishmaels said clause plays
no part whatsoever in inferring the result (but is at best an ex post facto comment). Thus,
the exegesis here consists in a reconciliation between conflicting propositions, exactly as
prescribed by the rule shelo kheinyano: no differentia exists.374
Two incidental comments: (a) it is interesting to note Schermans suggestion that the exile
is instead of the death penalty, not in addition to it, because this shows that in his mind
compatibility between the predicates is a feature of shehu kheinyano, as I have postulated for formal
reasons; (b) it is interesting to note the artifice that was used to mould the case in point to the format
of shehu kheinyano, namely the passing over of manifest explicit text (viz. the words and live),
which would be OK for illustration purposes but is not OK for Halakhic purposes.

3.
The ex-leper. This example is given by Bergman, under the heading of rule No. 11,
lidon badaver hechadash. As we will show, it should rather have been classed as shehu
kheinyano or shelo kheinyano. It is best expressed in implicational form.
Putting it very simply for our purposes: Lev. 7 gives laws concerning guiltofferings (asham) and sin-offerings (chatat), including the statement (v. 2) and the blood
thereof shall be dashed against the alter round about. Further on, Lev. 14 gives laws
concerning, specifically, the guilt-offering of an ex-leper (a healed metsora), including a
statement (v. 14) that blood of the sacrificed he-lamb is to be applied by the priest to
various parts of the ex-lepers anatomy (right ear, thumb and big toe). The Rabbis, to my
knowledge, conclude that the rest of the blood is to be dashed against the altar, as earlier
prescribed.
373

We may reasonably assume from the wording that the case of a slipped ax-head is meant
as merely a sample of accidental killing. The case description starts with the expression vaasher
(as when).
374
We may similarly show that Bergman's example for shehu kheinyano is in fact a case of
shelo kheinyano. With reference to Lev. 13, briefly, the law for 'leprosy' (tsaraat), whose signs are a
rising (seet), scab (sepachat) or bright spot (vaheret), is that a person so afflicted (S1) is to be
secluded for a minimum of two weeks (P1), to see how the symptoms evolve; but for a person (S2)
with a boil (shechin) or burning (mikhvat), the minimum seclusion is only one week (P2). Here, the
predicates are clearly incompatible, and the Rabbis' conclusion is typically that of shelo kheinyano,
namely that not all epidermal afflictions resembling 'leprosy' are subject to the two-week minimum
of seclusion. (Note precisely how I express the subject of the conclusion, viz. broadly enough to
conceivably include the minor subject at first sight; otherwise, if boils and burning were immediately
recognizable as not symptoms of 'leprosy', i.e. if no confusion was possible with risings, scabs or
bright spots, the minor term would not be subordinate to the major term, and there would be no
need of a shelo kheinyano, or any other, exegetic process.)

278

JUDAIC LOGIC

Now, the contents of these premises and conclusion are given by tradition and as
such accepted by me; however, tradition classifies the case under a different form than I do.
Let us, therefore, examine the issues more closely, and find out who is right. Here, the
major premise is if (P1=) a person makes a guilt-offering, then (Q1=) the blood thereof
shall be dashed on the altar and the minor premise is if (P2=) an ex-leper makes a guiltoffering, then (Q2=) blood of it shall be applied to the ex-leper. First, we note that the
minor antecedent implies the major antecedent (since an ex-leper is a person, and both are
making a guilt-offering); this provides us with the required antecedental premise.
Second, with regard to the applicable consequental premise, if the major
consequent is understood to mean that all of the blood shall be dashed on the altar, then it
is incompatible with the minor consequent, which requires at least some of the blood to be
otherwise used; in that event, the rule shelo kheinyano would be called for. But if the major
consequent is read as saying that an unspecified quantity of blood is to be dashed on the
altar, then it is compatible with the minor premise (since a bit of blood could be applied to
the ex-leper and the rest dashed on the altar, as indeed occurred in practice); in that event,
and since neither consequent implies the other, shehu kheinyano would be the appropriate
rule.
a.
Consider the shelo kheinyano reading. The premises are if (P1) a person makes a guiltoffering, then (Q1) all of the blood thereof shall be dashed on the altar and the minor premise is if
(P2) an ex-leper makes a guilt-offering, then (Q2) some of its blood shall be applied to the ex-leper.
The consequents are clearly incompatible, and the conclusion consists in particularizing the major
premise to for some persons who make a guilt-offering, some, but not all, of the blood is to be
dashed and reserving the minor premise so that for a person who is not an ex-leper who makes a
guilt offering, none of the blood is to be applied to right ear, etc.. Thus, all inconsistency is removed
and harmony is restored. This result matches the Rabbis, as above suggested.
b.
Consider the shehu kheinyano reading. The premises are if (P1) a person makes a guiltoffering, then (Q1) blood thereof shall be dashed on the altar and the minor premise is if (P2) an
ex-leper makes a guilt-offering, then (Q2) blood of it shall be applied to the ex-leper. Since the
consequents are vague as to the amount of blood required for dashing or applying, they are not
incompatible. In such case, formal logic does not impose on us the Rabbinic conclusion, but only
allows it as one possibility among others. This result is also, therefore, in accord with the Rabbis,
since it grants the latter possibility.

Now, Bergman presents this case as an example of lidon badavar hechadash. Of

course, he does not understand that rule as it was defined in the main body of the present
work, so we will not criticize him by simply pointing out that no actual class-changes are
involved in this example. Rather, let us consider his position in his own terms.
He says that the placing of blood on the thumb and toe of the metsora...
contradicts the general law, according to which the blood be entirely poured out on the
Altar. For this reason, the particular law is adjudged a new case (see Tosafos to Yevamos
7a...), and the major predicate can no longer apply to the minor subject, unless the
Torah expressly declares that it does so. As it happens, in this case, the Torah states
explicitly: as the sin-offering ... so is the guilt-offering, and thus the minor term is
expressly restored to the major term and premise.
My reply would be the following. If we read the major predicate as indeed a
requirement that all the sacrificial blood be dashed on the altar, then indeed it is in conflict
with the minor predicate, which requires that some of that blood be used for other
purposes. But in that event, I would say, the exegesis has the form of shelo kheinyano,
rather than badavar hechadash. Bergman indeed admits that both reach the same

APPENDICES

279

conclusion, but claims that they essentially involve two strikingly different situations.
For him, in shelo kheinyano, the predicates are conceivably...fundamentally distinct,
whereas in lidon badavar hechadash, they are essentially compatible (even though
elsewhere characterized by him as contradictory!). He gives no explanation of this
difference, other than the circular argument that a new law is stated... in a separate
passage of the Torah (note the eyewash word new, inserted in his premises to justify his
conclusion).
The truth is, then, that the example under scrutiny cannot be viewed as a case of
lidon badavar hechadash. For if the example is indeed typical of it, this rule is redundant,
being no different from shelo kheinyano. But since there exists a traditional example
(presented earlier) of badavar hechadash which does distinguish it, this rule is not a
repetition of shelo kheinyano. It follows that Bergmans example is misplaced375, and can
only be considered a case of shelo kheinyano (if dash blood on altar is read as dash
blood wholly on altar) or as a case of shehu kheinyano (if dash blood on altar is read
indefinitely).

375

And incidentally, his claim that "it would have been possible to deduce rule X from rule XI"
is untenable.

280

JUDAIC LOGIC

17. ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

The following Addenda and Diagrams were conceived and written after the Slatkine edition of 1997, and
published in Ruminations (2005). They are added on to the present reprint to complete it.

1.

Addenda to Judaic Logic

1
Concerning Adductive Reasoning Relative to Prophecy.
With reference to the adductive principles under discussion in chapter 2.3, relative to
which we gave (p. 33) the example in 1 Kings 22 (or 2 Chronicles 18), the following
remarks may be added.
We said that when Micah predicted the death of king Achav, he made a correct prediction,
confirming his prophetic powers, though not proving them; whereas, when the 400 socalled prophets predicted the kings victory, they made a wrong prediction, proving their
lack of prophetic powers, and not merely diminishing their credibility.
We could have added that Micahs credibility was double, in that he correctly predicted a
negative event, which is harder to do since curses are to the last revocable by God.
Similarly, the discredit to the 400 was double, in that they wrongly predicted a positive
event, although blessings once decreed by God are irrevocable.
On another tack, I would like to reconsider the underlying distinction between positive and
negative predictions. The Biblical passage 1 Samuel 15:29 would seem to contradict such a
principle. Here, Samuel makes a negative prediction (that Saul will lose the kingship) and
considers it irreversible (i.e. to be bound to happen, even if Saul should repent). Samuel
says that God does not lie or repent, apparently formulating a general principle.
If we review how the principle that prophesies of negatives are not inevitable (proposed by
the J.T. and Maimonides, according to Enc. Jud.) is inferred from Jeremiahs statement in
28:8-9 (quoted on p. 32), we see that it is an a contrario inductive inference. That is, the
principle about negatives is not deductively implied or explicitly stated, but merely
assumed tacitly intended by the stated principle that prophesies of peace come to pass.
Since davka positives only are mentioned, negatives are presumed excluded from the
statement. Jeremiah does not actually say that prophesies of war and the like do not
necessarily come to pass.
In fact, if we look at Jeremiahs statement more closely, he is not saying that prophesies of
peace are inevitable, but that when they come to pass, then they will have manifestly come
from God. This does not formally exclude that prophesies of war and such may be subject
to identical rules. This issue of conditionality is already discussed in my text (p. 33).
We may conclude from all that: in some cases true predictions, whether positive or
negative, are inevitable, while in some other cases they are conditional upon a continuation
or change of attitude or behavior. The de facto authority of the prophet and the actual
outcome allows us ex post facto to estimate which category the case under consideration
might fall under. But to the extent that some of those factors are tacit and informal, our

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

281

assumption that they are implicit is inductive rather than deductive; i.e. we are interpreting
rather than inferring.
2
A Note on Astronomy.
Concerning the astronomical information conveyed in chapter 2.4 (p. 37). I wrongly stated
that our galaxy has some 100,000 stars (of which the Sun is but an average sized sample),
and vaguely numbered a multitude of such galaxies in the universe. Forgive my
ignorance.
I was myself amazed to read later (in a newspaper) astronomers estimate the Milky Way
(our galaxy) as having 200 billion (i.e. 200,000 million) stars and the universe as having 80
billion galaxies with comparable contents each! That amounts, roughly, to:
16,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 stars.
Additionally, the diameter of the universe being estimated as 13.7 billion light years (give
or take some), and a light year being 9.461 trillion km, consider the size of the universe in
kilometers!
3
An Example of Secondary A-Fortiori in the Talmud.
I am in slight error (on pp. 74-75) when I say that, with reference to Chulin 24a, the
statement about priests is not part of the qal vachomer argument per se, but a preliminary
argument of another sort. More precisely, the statements about priests form a preliminary
a-fortiori argument, of the type I called secondary a-fortiori (p. 54), consisting of suffective
premises with a commensurative conclusion, namely:
If a priest reaches a certain age (Q), he is not sufficiently unfit (R)
to be disqualified (S);
If a priest has bodily blemishes (P), he is sufficiently unfit (R)
to be disqualified (S);
therefore: For a priest to have bodily blemishes (P) implies more unfitness for
Temple service (R) than for a priest to be past a certain age (Q).
The conclusion of this argument is then generalized, as I previously explained, by
effectively dropping the specification of priests and making it applicable to all Temple
servers. After that, the proposition can be used as major premise in an a-fortiori of the
primary type, concerning the Levites, as already shown.
This discovery answers my implied question on p. 155, as to whether cases of secondary afortiori are indeed found in the Talmud.
4
One More Example of A-Fortiori in the Tanakh.
An acquaintance of mine and reader of Judaic Logic, Mark Leroux, has in 2001 rightly
pointed out to me an additional a-fortiori argument in the Bible, in 1 Samuel 17:37. The
passage reads (New York: Judaica Press, 1976):
And David said, The Lord who saved me from the paw of the lion and the paw of
the bear, He will save me from the hand of the Philistine
Although this statement is not per se an argument, but has an assertoric form (that of a
blunt statement of fact), Davids underlying thought-process is indeed kal va-chomer (we
encountered a similar situation in chapter 6.3, with reference to Daniel 2:9). I easily
constructed a positive predicatal a-fortiori reflecting this thought-process, by proposing an
appropriate middle term (say, favoring by God):

282

JUDAIC LOGIC

God must favor (R) someone at least as much to deliver him from big wild animals (P) as
to deliver him from big seasoned warriors (Q); David (S) was favored by God (R) enough
to be delivered from a lion and a bear (P); therefore, David (S) will be favored by God (R)
enough to be delivered from Goliath (Q).
Notice that I used the egalitarian form of a-fortiori (major premise with as much as),
which suffices to make the point without too much assumption. But Mark Leroux
suggested a bolder, and finally more convincing, interpretation to me.
He pointed out that the lion and bear were innocent animals, merely attempting to feed
themselves, and yet God favored David over them. In contrast, the Philistine was a willful
enemy of His people, so God had all the more reason to favor David over him.
In other words, Davids argument could be cast as If God gave me victory over innocent
beasts obeying their natural impulses, he will surely give me victory over a rebellious brute
out to upset Gods plans. The result is the same, but the argument is more forceful.
Finally, looking at the Hebrew version, we note first that it contains no logical operators
(such as ki); but this does not detract from its being an argument, as we have seen in many
previous cases. Furthermore, it contains no keyword (such as ve-ekh or halo), let alone a
novel one which might have helped us to discover yet other, similar cases through a
concordance.
I want to underline here that Biblical a fortiori arguments usually require interpretation, in
that they involve tacit elements, usually the major premise at least. This can also be
illustrated with reference to the following two cases (paraphrased).
In 2 Samuel 4:10-11, David states that if he sentenced to death the man who brought him
tidings of Sauls death (whom the man claimed to have killed at the wounded Sauls own
request, see chapter 1), how much more will he so deal with the two men who brought him
tidings of Ish-Bosheths death (whom they had murdered in his bed). The major premise of
the argument being that the latter crime was greater than the former, either because of the
circumstances or because of the comparative innocence of the victim.
Similarly, in 2 Samuel 16:11, David states that considering that his own son, Absalom, was
seeking his life, how much more could one expect Shimei, a Benjamite supporter of the
late Saul, to express opposition to David. Here, the major premise would be that Shimei
compared to Absolom either had a better pretext for his actions or that they were less
dangerous.
5
A Note Concerning Anachronisms.
In chapter 9.1 (page 140, footnote 153), I noted in passing that Numbers 31:22-23
suggested that iron-working in Israel had begun in about 1300 BCE, whereas modern
historians placed this event in about 1000 BCE. This remark implied a possible error in the
Biblical account, and a source of doubt.
However, subsequent readings, relating to the Hittites376 (who it turns out inhabited a large
portion of the Near East region, from modern Turkey down to Israel), have taught me that
archeological sites suggest iron working in the region dates from the 14th-13th Cent. BCE,
and texts suggest a date as early as 1800-1700 BCE.
This rather confirms the Biblical claim on this subject.
Notwithstanding, while on the subject of Bible criticism based on archeological findings, I
would like to add the following. Faced with apparent anachronisms in the Biblical account,
376

Notably O.R. Gurneys The Hittites (England: Penguin, 1952. Rev. ed. 1964).

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

283

many archeologists tend to overreact (with conscious or unconscious ideological motives,

one may suspect).
For instances, the story of the Patriarchs in Genesis mentions Philistines and camels and
yet, according to archeology (i.e. physical traces so far uncovered or not uncovered),
Philistines did not appear in the Land of Canaan till a few centuries later in about 1200
BCE, and camels did not appear there till still later in about 700 BCE. Some historians
conclude from such apparently factual data that the story of the Patriarchs was invented,
accordingly late in Hebrew history.
But, even assuming the empirical findings indubitable (though, note well, these are often
negative, and so less certain than positive findings), such a conclusion is unnecessarily
extreme, for it is logically equally conceivable that there was an older and more skeletal
Patriarch story and that this was later embellished with anachronistic elements. It is not
incredible to suppose that early commentators embedded their comments in the received
text (whereas later commentators, such as the writers of the Midrash, avoided such direct
interpolation).
One must always be ready and willing to adapt to developing factual evidence. But
generally speaking, it is logically permissible (if not often preferable) to retreat gradually
and reluctantly from a favored position, yielding only step by step, rather than to surrender
everything abruptly and take on a radically contrary position.
Of course, in either case, if the empirical evidence is incontrovertible, the inference one
can draw from such anachronisms is that the text, whether partly doctored or wholly
fabricated, is to at least some extent post-Exilic.
6
Inferences from Context.
The argument I give as example of contextual inference (on p. 159) can be formalized as
follows:
(a) Murder is a capital offense
Adultery is a capital offense
therefore (because textually adjacent)
stealing is a capital offense

A is E
and B is E
but C is next to A, B
therefore, C is E

(b) but also, of the kinds of stealing,

only kidnapping is a capital offense
therefore, as intended in the Decalogue,
stealing means kidnapping

however, of all C
only D is E
therefore, here
C means specifically D

Thus, judging from this traditional example, inferences from context can be expressed to
some extent in formal terms, their common property being a proposition like C is next
to.... However, such argument has varying force, in view of the vagueness of the copula
next to, and its inevitable irrelevancy in some cases (as I have argued, there has to be
changes of topic).
Note that only (a) is contextual inference; (b) is an additional argument, which takes off
from a foregone conclusion (of here unstated source) that kidnapping is a capital offense,
and infers that the term stealing in the previous segment was intended to refer specifically
to theft of people.

284

JUDAIC LOGIC

7
Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc.
I have suggested in my analysis of binyan av (pp. 160-162) that the Rabbis often commit
the fallacy377 of post hoc ergo propter hoc (after this, therefore because of this). This
consists in interpreting a sequence of events as causal, rather than merely coincidental,
without proper justification.
This kind of thinking is hard to avoid in the context of a closed book like the Bible.
Because the characters and events in it seem exemplary and final, we are tempted to accept
them as empirical data and generalize from them to our hearts content, without regard to
inductive rules. The Rabbis were conscious of the dangers of excess involved. For
instance, that people might wish to imitate Pinchas and kill out of some moral
indignation378. In such contexts, the Rabbis would designate the event as somehow unique
and limited to particular circumstances or to the time and place. The problem is of course
that they were not consistently rigorous in their interpretations.
When we read the stories in the Tanakh, we naturally get influenced one way or the other
by the characters and events. Indeed, this was the writers intention. Writers of religious
books, like those of philosophical or political tracts, like many novelists or film-makers,
and indeed journalists (who mostly do not report facts but fabricate propaganda), all want
to influence people. It doesnt take much, because people (especially youth, but also tired
souls) become absorbed in the fictional universe involved, and identify with certain
characters and take example from their attributes, responses and behavior patterns, little
realizing the enormous power of the author over his creation.
It is also worth keeping in mind that the practical success or failure, or the beauty or
ugliness, of such qualities and behaviors, are very often a function of the social milieu. In a
theocratic regime, fanatic acts may seem sane and admirable, while rational acts may seem
weak, stupid or immoral. In a secular society, depraved or nonsensical acts may impress,
while acts of integrity or reason may seem old-fashioned, pompous or laughable. It is
because appearances in these matters are very relative that fiction (in all its guises) can so
easily manipulate peoples emotions.
8
Judgment-Calls.
A notable feature of Rabbinic exegesis is its attempt to grasp the impact of the propositions
in a text on each other.
We see from the example of the Rabbis thought processes that a proposition, or set of
propositions, may be considered (rightly or wrongly) to cause another to be particularized
or generalized, or rendered exclusive or indefinite, or otherwise conditioned. Such dynamic
causal relations are inductive, and are to be contrasted to the merely static oppositional
relations found in Aristotelian deductive logic (where the respective truths or falsehoods of
propositions are declared compatible or incompatible).
By such considerations, induction is raised to a more complicated level. It is a level at
which the Subject is making more judgments (in the sense of judgment-calls), since he/she
must try and estimate the relative credibility to assign to each appearance, giving this one
or that one superior force, and thus decide somewhat the directions of his/her thinking
377

According to the History of Philosophical Systems. (Ed. Vergilius Ferm. Paterson, N.J.:
Littlefield Adams, 1961. P. 67) hermeneutics for purposes of Halakhah consist of strict logical
rules. I quote this here quite incidentally, to show how far the myth of a Rabbinic logic is spread.
378
The assassination of Y. Rabin comes to mind.

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

285

processes379. And of course, it is precisely because of this subjective element inherent in

judgment-call that the risks of wrongdoing are greatest in it. By that, I mean allowing ones
judgment to be warped by emotional pressures, wishful thinking, dishonesty, etc.
9
Tolerance of Contradictions.
Judaic logic (together with the logics of other religions and mysticisms) is often
conveniently tolerant of contradiction, in contrast to Aristotelian and scientific logic which
uncompromisingly rejects contradiction. This is a fundamental distinction, due to
attachment of the former to certain given beliefs, texts, doctrines and persons.
The religious construct their world view by tacitly accepting all manners of contradiction:
between different passages of the Torah and Nakh, between competing statements of
Rabbis in the same or different periods, between tradition and scientific discoveries, and so
on. They imagine and posit as an article of faith that a resolution somehow exists, whereas
the scientific demand a resolution to be found before accepting that there is one. Or
perhaps more precisely, the religious presume a resolution compatible with their dogmas to
exist, whereas the scientific presume a resolution exists but not necessarily one compatible
with their pet theories.
I am sorry to say that Talmudic dialectic often makes me think of the liar who covers up
his lie with another lie, and the latter with yet another, and so forth, till he has confused his
adversary into silence. Each generation of Rabbis constructs an evasive scenario, to dilute
the difficulties they find in the Biblical text or in previous Rabbinical discussions, and
make them more palatable. Of course, such dissolution instead of solution, or explainingaway instead of explaining, has to more or less fit the prevailing orthodox views (though
sometimes it does shock a bit initially).
10
Proof of God by Analogy?
I heard Genevas Rabbi Marc Raphal Guedj recently argue, in a sermon, that just as
Mans soul sees but is not seen, so God sees but is not seen. I have seen a similar
argument in Rabbinic literature before, or perhaps it was the simpler proposition that God
is to the world what the body is to the soul380. This is of course an argument by analogy.
However, it should be noted that the analogy is imperfect, since we regard God as creating
the universe whereas we do not regard Mans soul as creating his body381.
In any case, we see from the above objection that, as I have always argued, though analogy
is not in itself erroneous, it is rarely if ever conclusive. The analogy admittedly carries
some conviction, but this must be weighed against the points of difference. There are
always differencesotherwise the things compared would not be two but one! The issue is
to estimate the significance of the differences. In the above case, as all will admit, our
concepts of God and Man do not merely differ in scale.
Also, before we try to infer God from Man, we must more deeply consider whether our
concept of Man is knowledge or theory. We (myself included) assume that Man has a
soul on the basis of the fact of consciousness: phenomena do not just manifest
379

I have given more formal attention to these matters in the context of my analysis of factorial
induction in my Future Logic.
380
Which argument is, incidentally, found in Indian philosophy, specifically in Ramajuna (1100
CE). (See Ferm, p. 15.)
381
And in fact I doubt that the view that God is in a similar relation to the world as Mans soul
is to his body is strictly kosher; it could be interpreted as a sort of pantheism, which the Rabbis
dislike.

286

JUDAIC LOGIC

themselves, but they seem to appear to someonea Subject seems logically required,
which experiences things. Nevertheless, many people (in particular, Buddhists) deny this
inference, and emphasize the transparency of the soul, its lack of concrete manifestations,
to conclude that the existence of the soul is an illusion.
Furthermore, solipsism remains a philosophical possibility (though not one I personally
incline towards). I, the Subject, perceive some things closest to my apparent center of
perception, which things I call my body; and I perceive (more wholly, though less
intimately) other bodies beyond mine, which resemble mine and behave like mine; and
from that I conclude that there are other people out there, i.e. entities who are conscious,
and seemingly volitional, and emotive, in short who seemingly like me have a soul. But
that inference, though a good working hypothesis, has no deductive certainty; it is still
quite conceivable that the other people I perceive are empty phantasms.
Clearly, these deeper doubts (though picky) make the argument by analogy we mentioned
to start with even more tenuous. If Mans soul is in doubt, it cannot be adduced very
convincingly in support of a world soul (i.e. God).
11
Disproofs of God?
a.
The counterargument I have given (pp. 233-236), that if the world requires
explanation, how much more does God require it, is an excellent way to neutralize certain
traditional proofs of God. A Being capable of creating a world as great and marvelous as
this, has to be still greater and more marvelous; to posit such a Being increases rather than
decreases theoretical difficulties, and therefore presents no logical advantage.
This is comparable to the well-known counterargument that if the world requires a cause,
then so does God, for if the antecedent is based on the principle that everything requires a
cause, then the consequent has to submit to the same principle. In other words, the idea that
everything has a cause is a thesis that the causal chain is infinite; we cannot therefore
consistently use it to justify a first-cause thesis. I believe we must admit of first causes
within the worldfor instance, in freely willed acts by humans (influences on whom do
not constitute causes in the deterministic sense here used); in that case, the world may need
no cause or may have as first cause a causeless God.
We can join and contrapose the two statements and say if God requires no cause or
explanation, nor does the world. My counterargument is I think original, but finally merely
a broadening of an older counterargument382. In any event, these arguments do not disprove
God, they merely neutralize alleged proofs of God; that is, they demonstrate that those socalled proofs are not conclusive.
b.
I have said that you cannot conclusively disprove God, either. Sure, theodicy
since the Book of Job383gives us ample reasons to doubt God, as we conceive Him
through Judaism. If God is perfectly just and full of love for His creatures, then how come
terrible crimes are not prevented and innocent victims are not protected? There is no
excuse for such negligence384: if human freedom would have otherwise been impossible to

382

Which I learned from Ayn Rand, but which I seem to remember Aristotle previously taught.
Incidentally, referring to my comments on p. 231 concerning those who add insult to injury,
and without cause accuse all victims of crime or misfortune of having somehow deserved it. It
occurs to me that Job had said it already, in his complaints against the unfair and unkind
accusations by his three friends (see also Ferm p. 61-62).
384
To argue that God gives the criminal time to repent is absurd, since the victim is thus
forgotten.
383

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

287

create (as some argue385), there was still the option of not creating humankind at all (and
regarding why we were created no plausible argument is found by anybody).
Such argument convinces many people that God does not exist, or at least that He is not as
described by apologists, since there are evidently contradictions between the expectations
raised by religion and historical and personal experience. Nevertheless, while powerful,
such argument does not strictly disprove God: (i) What is just or unjust is sometimes if not
always unclear or problematic; judges or jurors often disagree, for a variety of reasons. (ii)
There may be hidden pathways to justice which in the long term restore the balance, as
defenders of faith have often argued.
I am personally not greatly impressed by such defenses, for to (i) I would respond that only
the (innocent) victim can decide whether it feels justly dealt with or not, if he/she is still
alive and fit, and to (ii) I would respond that justice hidden or delayed is justice denied, the
issue is prevention not mere cure. Nevertheless, we must grant that none of such arguments
or counterarguments logically permits us to draw a decisive conclusion. Arguments from
theodicy result in at best the improbability of the existence of God as we imagine Him (i.e.
just and loving).
c.
There is another old objection that puts God in serious doubt, or at least God as we
conceive Him. It is: if God is eternal, perfect, self-sufficient and satisfied, then He is
immune to any danger or desire, and therefore has no need or motive to create/destroy or
pursue/avoid anything, no use for temporal things or events. God, alone, without need of
others since complete, with nothing to fear since eternal, would not suddenly put in motion
unnecessary turbulences in His unity, generating lies386 and suffering for no conceivable
reason. He is not lonely or bored, nothing exists to affect Him or which is capable of doing
so, so why would He bother?
I think this points to a weighty contradiction. What it means is that the hypothesis that a
God exists with such and such characteristics (eternity, etc.) is belied by the empirical data
that a temporal world at all exists (quite apart from the lies and suffering in it). Thus, what
we apparently have here in inductive terms is not mere reduction in probability and putting
in doubt of a thesis, but its decisive rejection and elimination. The world is not only not a
proof, but it is a disproof of God!
This counterargument is not new to philosophy, but I failed to consider it previously and to
see its persuasiveness. I was taken in by arguments found in Rabbinic literature, which
referred to Gods spontaneous will to create the world and humanity out of pure love, to
share His life and joybut now, upon reflection, I realize such theses do not stand to
reason! It follows that we do not merely have (a) an absence of proof for God, or (b)
complaints which make Him improbablewe have (c) in the very existence of a temporal
world, an actual disproof.
But upon further reflection, I am not too sure of the finality of the above objection. For the
description of God relied on here makes Him resemble a stone! We rather conceive God as
in the image and likeness of humans, that is as having freewill (and that to an extreme
degree). And I believe, though I have not yet demonstrated it, that freedom of the will
conceptually requires the ability (though not necessity) to act quite anarchically, without
purpose (not even the goal of acting without purpose). If this is indeed a characteristic of
human volition, then there is no reason to deny a similar feature to Divine will.
385

But I do not see why a timely destruction of Hitler and his ilk would have been a problem.
Since the world is well able to exist for long periods without such horrors, it follows that human
freedom does not require them.
386
When I speak of lies here, I mean that if existence is essentially unitary, then it follows that
the world of plurality is all illusions, and created illusions are lies.

288

JUDAIC LOGIC

d.
Another influential argument in favor of atheism is the perspective modern science
has given mankind regarding how very little space and time it occupies in this universe.
Modern science has of course raised considerable doubts about the veracity and accuracy
of Biblical and other religious accounts, taken literally, of the universe and of mankinds
position in it. Examples of such deficiency are countless. Critics often point out the
numerous and important deficiencies of the Biblical narrative of Creation (e.g. with regard
to the duration and order of universal development, the non-mention of extinct species and
geological changes, and so forth); but there are many other issues (e.g. the proposed listing
of ethnic groups and their relations). Also in other religions there are, according to modern
science, serious errors (for example, the Hindu-Buddhist belief in an eternal cyclical
universe).
However, the issue I wish to focus on here is not related to specific traditional claims, but
has a more theological character:
(i) Although modern science has concluded that the universe is not infinite (but to
date about 13.7 billion light years in diameter, according to some), it has also made
clear how comparatively minuscule our home is (a planet some 12750 km in
diameter). We are living on a mere speck of dust, in one galaxy comprising some
200 billion stars like the Sun, in a world of some 80 billion galaxies (according to
one article I read).
(ii) Also, our planet is a rather late arrival on the world scene (being some 4.5 billion
years old, I read), and the human species as such is a very late arrival on it
(although life is considered to have started here say 4 billion years ago, homo
sapiens appeared in the evolutionary chain perhaps some 200000 years ago).
History (comprising the remnants of human culture) stretches barely 6000 years
(or rather, lately, some 10000 years): it is a puny detail in the story of life on
Earth.
Thus, modern science has shown mankind to be a very, very tiny detail in space and time
and the theological question naturally arises: why would God create such a spatially and
temporally enormous theatre, if His purpose in creation was only the drama of human
redemption?
Before the advent of modern science (starting with the Copernican revolution), people
imagined their life at centre-stage, and the stage as not much larger than the earth and not
much older than human history. But now we know ourselves to be a mere detail in a very
grand tapestry.
Galileo was persecuted by some Churchmen, because they realized the danger he posed to
their religious doctrines; and they were not far wrong in that assumption. Modern atheism
is largely based on the perspective modern science (astronomy, biology) gives on
humanity. Paradoxically, todays human arrogance is based on a humble realization of
human insignificance in the larger scheme of things.
The issue is not only what the Bible stated incorrectly or did not say but moreover an
issue of dimensions, of the disproportion between us and the rest of the universe. This
thought, tacitly or explicitly, is a strong force for atheism in todays world. Defenders of
religion must take it into account and propose convincing replies. And indeed, upon
reflection, the argument of perspective is not unbeatable.
We could turn it around and say: God made a world so enormous around us so as to give us
a hint of His infinite greatness. Our whole universe, for all its immensity in our eyes, is
perhaps in turn a mere speck of dust in Gods eyes. The faithful have always

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

289

acknowledged Gods greatness in comparison to humans, and indeed have considered it an

argument in favor of awe and worship.
Moreover, it could be argued that God also wanted to give us a hint of His great love for
us. How so? If one considers a task of little worth, one devotes little time and effort to it.
But God took billions of years of complex preparation before producing mankind
forming and destroying stars, forming our planet, developing life on it, making and
breaking numerous habitats and species, until finally the (still very perfectible) human
species emerged historically.
We may in this context, for example, quote Psalms 113:5-6:
Who is like the Eternal our God, Who, [though] enthroned on high,
lowers Himself to look upon the heavens and the earth?
Like an artist of great genius, God has created a massive masterpiece around the detail that
mattered most to Him, to give it richness and depth. In His infinite love, He has made a
free gift of attention and care to inferior creatures like us (a bit as if we were to adopt
microbes as pets!)
12
Neither Certainty Nor Faith are Essential to Religious Ethics.
It has to be made clear that my insistent skepticism regarding religion, and the arguments
in its defense, cannot be interpreted as categorical rejection of all religiously motivated
behavior. For even a secular ethics has to admit the inevitable limits of human knowledge.
Many actions, whatever their standard of value, are based on conditional judgments.
We can never be absolutely sure that such or such a course of action will indeed lead to our
goal, that it is the only way to it and will not have negative side-effects, that our goal really
is consistent and feasible, and so forth. Things are not always immediately clear or
predictable. Our actions are often based on hypotheses and on more or less accurate
probability estimates387. Assuming this, I should do that. Supposing so and so, I ought to
act thus. To be realistic, ethics has to adapt to our epistemological framework.
Thus, it is quite legitimate from the point of view of logic to motivate ones behavior by
means of conditional judgments. There is no proof or disproof that God exists or is thus or
thus; but just in case it is true, I will behave in such or such a way. Or again: I doubt there
is life after death, or judgment and reward or punishment, yet just to be on the safe side, I
will act as if I was sure.388 Such judgments are not in any way logically reprehensible.
It follows that neither certainty nor faith are essential to religious ethics.
People are free to invest their efforts where they want, but of course they have to be aware
that such courses of action, based on conditional judgments, have and are bound to have
definite consequences of their own, whether in accord with expectations or totally
unexpectedly. Gambling, however unavoidable, still involves real risk. That is, by
justifying the form of such judgments, ethical science makes no claim that it is justifying
their content!
Nevertheless, in many cases the consequences are clearly benign. If one goes to the
synagogue occasionally, say for social interactions, one has at worst wasted ones time,
which one might have wasted instead at the beach or shopping around. One could of course
often argue the matter further (e.g. that by so doing one is reinforcing the power of
religious cadres); but excessive rigidity can also be a disvalue.

387
388

In whatever mode of modality natural, temporal, extensional or logical.

Such discourse underlies the Believers Wager mentioned on p. 239.

290

JUDAIC LOGIC

13
The Rabbis Antipathy to Philosophy.
In answer to the Rabbis distrust of philosophy, and their attempt to muzzle it or its study
at least, I say this. Philosophy is a necessity for humans; we have to research the issues for
the sake of our sanity and survival389.
Admittedly, to affirm that philosophy, as a science, as a disciplined pursuit of knowledge,
is a valuable thing, is not necessarily to accept all particular philosophies, all attempted
formulations of what philosophys problems and solutions are. Philosophy is not a fixed
monolith, as the Rabbis seem to think of it.
Nevertheless, philosophy is a trial and error process, and therefore all views contribute
something to our collective understanding. Even wildly erroneous views, products of
mixed-up minds, are interesting, in that they awake more intelligent philosophers to the
need for appropriate comments in the area concerned. Often, what seems obvious to the
latter is far from obvious to others, and it is only when the others manifest their confusion
that better thinkers realize they must be more explicit.
Additionally, Judaism often mistakenly prides itself in the originality of its explanations of
things, while at the same time usually attributing them to Biblical personalities. Only by
study of the actual history of philosophy can we be properly informed regarding the
sources of our ideas, and when and in what context they made their appearance on the
world scene.
I do agree with the Rabbis in this: the idea of God cannot be objectively discussed by
someone with an impure mind for an impure mind is necessarily biased away from or
against this idea. A person whose thoughts (and consequently, eventually, actions) tend
towards impurity is well nigh bound to doubt or deny God. Under the influence of
powerful carnal and egotistic desires, one naturally opposes and mocks all ideas that
demand one restrain or restrict ones evil impulses. However, one must not allow ones
good intentions to bias ones judgment, either.
14
In Defense of the Rabbis.
I recently overheard a congregant in a synagogue, during the third meal on a Sabbath,
loudly declare for all to hear: I fully believe in the Torah, but have no faith in what the
Rabbis say since they are only human! (Let me hasten to add that this is a very
surprising remark for someone attending a service.) Another congregant got very upset
with him and (rightly) pointed out that this was the viewpoint of the Karaite sect (which
split off from normative, Rabbinic Judaism as of the 8th Cent. CE).
Not keen to get into a shouting match, I did not get involved in the argument then. But
after the service, I approached him and argued with him in private approximately as
follows.
First, I pointed out, what you are saying is that only your own reading of the Torah is valid;
in other words, while you claim to distrust human claims to knowledge, you are in fact
considering your own claim exempt and superior. He of course denied having such
arrogance, and included his own reading as flawed as that of any other person. He realized
then the self-contradiction of his position.
389

Furthermore, one might argue: why would God not want us to enjoy the philosophical
aspects of His world, whatever they are, just as we enjoy a sunrise, a flower or a fruit. Surely, He
would take pleasure and pride in humans exercising the intellectual faculties He granted them to
the full, and solving the riddles inherent in their limited perspectives on the world as best they can.
But such argument is open to rebuttal: we have other capacities which God apparently does not
want us to actualize, so why not those intellectual ones.

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

291

Second, I pointed out, if you admit your own fallibility, yet your judgment is trustworthy
enough to dismiss the Rabbis claims, does it not follow that other humans, though
sometimes perhaps wrong, may sometimes also occasionally be right? He admitted that
indeed people were not always wrong, but could be right.
I pursued further: Does the mere fact that the source of some knowledge is someone else
make it wrong? Is it not conceivable to you that someone else might have more knowledge
or understanding of something than you, and might be able to teach you some of it? Are
you not sometimes freely convinced by other peoples arguments? To his credit, the man
conceded.
Clearly, to deny the Rabbis invariable truth is not the same as to invariably deny them
truth. If they cannot convince us of something too bad. But if they manage to convince us
of it in good faith so well and good!

2.

Diagrams for Judaic Logic

Some of the 13 hermeneutic rules of R. Ishmael can be represented graphically, at least in

some respects.

1
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 1, concerning a-fortiori argument, can be represented by a
triangular star, at the center of which is the middle item (R) through which the three other
items, P, Q, and S are related to each other.

Diagram 1a

292

JUDAIC LOGIC

The a-fortiori argument may also be represented, with reference to the comparative
propositions that underlie it, as ordering items P, Q, and S, according to their position in a
common continuum R:

Diagram 1b
Figure 1
Rp > Rq
Rq > Rs
So, Rp > Rs

Figure 2
Rp > Rq
Rp < Rs
So, Rq < Rs

Figure 3
Rp > Rq
Rs > Rp
So, Rs > Rq

Figure 4
Rp > Rq
Rs < Rq
So, Rs < Rp

Note that the four figures of a-fortiori should not be confused with the four of syllogism
they imply, which are, in the order shown: the fourth, third, first and second figures.

2
R. Ishmaels Rules Nos. 4 and 5, concerning the intended scope of terms, can be
represented as follows. In the first case, the intent is narrow; in the second case, the intent
is broad.

Diagram 2

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

293

3
Rabbi Ishmaels Rules Nos. 8-9-10, which are some of the Talmuds
harmonization rules, are all concerned with the following logical problem, formulated
with reference to the following diagram: knowing the lateral relations between four items
(the terms or theses, S1, P1, S2, P2, in the four premises a, b, c, d), what are the diagonal
relations between them (i.e. the conclusions, e)?

Diagram 3
Such arguments appear much simpler, if viewed as successions of Aristotelian syllogisms
(which involved three items, in two premises and one conclusion). They may then be
graphically represented, using Euler diagrams. Their formally valid conclusions are then
manifest for all to see; and the invalidity of some Rabbinic conclusions is then apparent.

4
We suggested a general formula for the first three (actually, four) of the
hermeneutic principles which begin with the phrase kol davar shehayah bikhlal veyatsa...

Given the three premises, common to the four Rules:

1. Major premise: All S1 are P1.
2. Minor premise: All S2 are P2.
3. Subjectal premise: All S2 are S1, but not all S1 are S2.
and, the fourth premise, as applicable in each Rule:
4. Predicatal premise: The relation between P1 and P2.
What are resulting relations (conclusions)?
Between S1 and P2 (main issue).
Between S2 and P1.
Between S1 and P1, other than the above given.
Between S2 and P2, other than the above given.

294

JUDAIC LOGIC

The first three premises can be individually depicted as follows:

Diagram 4a
Note that the first two premises leave open the possibility that subject and predicate may be
co-extensive, so that the circles labeled S1 and P1 might be equal in size, and likewise the
circles labeled S2 and P2 might be one. On the other hand, the relation between S2 and S1
can only be as above depicted, with S2 smaller than S1.
As for the remaining (predicatal) premise and the conclusion(s), we shall consider each
case each in turn.
But first, let us consider what general conclusions can be drawn from the common
premises of all such arguments.
Given the major and subjectal premises, we can at the outset, without resort to the other
premises, make the following syllogistic inferences and graphic presentation:
1/AAA
All S1 are P1
All S2 are S1
So, all S2 are P1

3/OAO
Some S1 are not S2
All S1 are P1
So, some P1 are not S2

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

295

Diagram 4b
Note: I did not mention the above 3/OAO syllogism in my original treatment (p. 173).
It should, however, be pointed out that in the case of Rule 10, since the major premise is
particularized in an effort to restore consistency, these initial inferences become annulled.
Similarly, given the minor and subjectal premises, we can at the outset, without resort to
the other premises, make the following syllogistic inference and graphic presentation:
3/AAI
All S2 are P2
All S2 are S1
So, some S1 are P2

Diagram 4c

296

JUDAIC LOGIC

This conclusion is an indefinite particular, note i.e. in some cases, we may find All S1
are P2; and in others, Only some S1 are P2.390

5
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 8(a) lelamed oto hadavar the generalizing version of
lelamed, may be depicted as follows, since its fourth premise is:
All P2 are P1, but not all P1 are P2 (predicatal premise).

Diagram 5
The four premises formally yield the conclusion Some S1 are P2 (etc.), which is
compatible with the two outcomes shown in our diagram.
Rabbi Ishmael concludes (more generally and more specifically) that All S1 are P2,
which means that he at the outset generalizes the formal conclusion, and precludes the
other formal alternative (some S1 are not P2). No reason is given for this hasty action.
Thus, note well, although the Rabbinical conclusion is in this case compatible with the
formal one, it is not identical with it. Strictly speaking, it is a non-sequitur. The best we can
say for it is that it is a legitimate inductive preference to select the more general alternative;
however, the Rabbis should remain open to occasional particularization of their conclusion,
if it is found to lead to some contradiction elsewhere.

6
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 8(b) lelamed hefekh hadavar the particularizing
version of lelamed, may be depicted as follows, since its fourth premise is (note the
reversal of order of the terms, in comparison to the preceding case):
All P1 are P2 (predicatal premise).
390

Quite incidentally, I notice while writing this that in Future Logic (p. 37), I state that the
mood 3/AAI is a derivative of 3/AII; but it could equally be derived from 3/IAI. Similarly, 3/EAO could
be derived from either 3/EIO (as stated) or 3/OAO.

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

297

Diagram 6
The four premises formally yield the conclusion All S1 are P2 (etc.).
Yet R. Ishmael draws the very opposite conclusion Some S1 are not P2! Why this upside
down logic? Apparently, he mentally considers the premises in conflict, due to some
perceived redundancy in the text, and seeks to harmonize them by excluding all S1 other
than S2 from being P2. But such particularization is logically illegitimate, since there was
in fact no formal conflict between the premises, and textual repetitions can hardly be
considered as such. Judge for yourself.

7
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 10 shelo kheinyano is difficult to depict since it
concerns a conflict resolution. Its fourth premise is:
No P1 is P2 / No P2 is P1 (predicatal premise).
As the following first diagram shows this premise is in conflict with the others, since if the
circles representing P1 and P2 cannot overlap at all, then the circles S1 and S2 cannot
satisfy all the given conditions regarding them. The problem can be faced in a number of
ways:
(a) That is, if S2 is wholly in S1, and S2 is wholly in P2, then S1 cannot be wholly in P1.
We could accept this and propose that S1 is partly in P1 and partly (to an extent at
least enough for S1 to cover S2) in P2.
(b) Alternatively, if S2 is wholly in S1, and S1 is wholly in P1, then S2 cannot be wholly
in P2. We could accept this and propose that S2 is partly in P2, and partly in P1; but if
we say so, we must also assume S2 is not entirely (but only partly) within S1.
(c) We might also resolve our dilemma by assuming S1 and S2 not to at all overlap, like
P1 and P2.

298

JUDAIC LOGIC

Diagram 7a
R. Ishmaels preferred option, for resolving the conflict dealt with by Rule No. 10, seems
to have been (a). That is, he kept the subjectal and predicatal premises, and even the minor
premise, unchanged and chose to tinker only with the major premise, concluding: Some,
but not all, S1 are P1. Diagrammatically, this Rabbinical resolution of the conflict looks
as follows:

Diagram 7b
This is a formally acceptable option, even though not the only conceivable option. That is,
though the Rabbinical response is not per se in error, it should be kept in mind by them that
other inductive responses are possible if the need arise, i.e. if this response later prove
undesirable for some reason.

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

299

8
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 9 shehu kheinyano presumably has as its fourth
premise:
Some P1 are P2 and some P1 are not P2, and
some P2 are P1 and some P2 are not P1 (predicatal premise).
This situation, where P1 and P2 only partly overlap, may be graphically represented as
follows:

Diagram 8
The conclusions we can formally draw are obvious enough. Since Some S1 are P2, as
well as, All S2 are P1 and some P1 are not S2, are general conclusions possible from
the first three premises, without resort to the predicatal premise the only formal
conclusion specific to the current predicatal premise is Some P2 are not S1.
It is not clear (to me so far, at least) what R. Ishmael proposes to conclude in such cases.

9
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 11 lidon badavar hechadash can also to some
extent be represented graphically. Do not refer in the present case to the earlier common
premises and conclusions (for Rules 8-10) this is an entirely different situation. Here, we
are initially given the premises:
All S1 are P1 and All S2 are P2
And we are told that an individual, say x, changes over time from membership in the
class S1 to membership in the class S2. Whence, incidentally, by singular syllogism, x is
initially P1 and later P2. Later still, x leaves S2 and returns to S1. Formally speaking,
granting the given premises constant, there is no doubt as to the outcome of such return: x

300

JUDAIC LOGIC

must again be P1. As to xs relation to P2, it depends on further conditions; for we are not
told in the way of a general premise whether P1 and P2 overlap or not.
These formal considerations are illustrated in the following diagram (assuming here, for
the sake of argument, that P1 and P2 are mutually exclusive):

Diagram 9a
However, R. Ishmael conceives the possibility that when x returns from S2 to S1, the
relation of S1 to P1 may in the meantime have changed to Only some S1 are P1, so that
we can no longer syllogistically infer from x being S1 that x is P1.
Alternatively, the original premise All S1 are P1 may have from the start been less
general than apparent; that is, it may have more specifically been intended to refer to All
first-time members of S1, so that we cannot be sure whether P1 applies returnees to S1
like x.
Thus, the preceding diagram might conceivably be revised as follows:

Diagram 9b

ADDENDA AND DIAGRAMS

301

Anyhow, R. Ishmael considers the issue open, and recommends the matter be verified in
the Biblical text.

10
R. Ishmaels Rule No. 13, the last in his list, covers many different cases, most of
which cannot readily be illustrated. However, the following diagram illustrates one
example of the dialectic often involved, where thesis and antithesis are both narrowed, and
replaced by their synthesis or common ground.

Diagram 10
This illustration is symbolic, note well, because strictly speaking (in class logic) the
propositions All S are P and Only some S are P should overlap and their common
ground, the indefinite Some S are P, would be their area of overlap.
This is just one example the most deductive of how these conflicting theses might be
reconciled. Other inductive possibilities would be to asymmetrically favor one or the other
given theses in which case, the selected one would constitute our synthesis.
In some (other) cases, too, it is possible to argue that the theses are not in as real a conflict
as at first appears.

302

JUDAIC LOGIC

REFERENCES

Abehsera, A. The Universal Language I: Bavel Revisited. Jerusalem: Eqev, 1991.

Abitbol, Gabriel. Logique du droit talmudique. Paris: Edition des Sciences Hbraques,
1993.
Akmajian, Adrian, Richard A Demers and Robert M. Harnish. Linguistics: An
Introduction to Language and Communication. 2nd ed. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT P, 1984.
Bentwich, Norman. Hellenism. Philadelphia: Jewish, 1919.
Bergman, Rabbi Meir Zvi. Gateway to the Talmud New York: Mesorah, 1985.
Biberfeld, Philip. Universal Jewish History. 4 vols. Vol. I: New York: Spero Foundation,
1948. Vol. II-IV: New York: Feldheim, 1962, 1973, 1980.
Carmel, Aryeh. Aiding Talmud Study. Rev. ed. Jerusalem, New York: Feldheim, 1991.
Carson, D. A. Exegetical Fallacies. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1984.
Chavel, Charles B. Encyclopedia of Torah Thoughts. New York: Shilo, 1980.
Cohen, Rev. Dr. A., ed.
(Samuel), 1950 (Kings).

The Soncino Books of the Bible.

London: Soncino, 1949

Cohen, Rev. Dr. A., ed. The Soncino Chumash: The Five Books of Moses with
Haphtaroth. 2nd ed. London: Soncino, 1983.
Concordantiae Hebraicae atque Chaldaicae. Ed. Dr. Solomon Mandelkern. Jerusalem:
Shocken, 1955.
Dictionary of Philosophy. London: Pan, 1979.
Encyclopaedia Judaica. Jerusalem: Keter, 1972.391
Encyclopedie Philosophique Universelle. II. Les notions philosophiques: Dictionnaire.
Paris: PU de France, 1990.

391

Occasionally referred to as Enc. Jud. or E.J.

REFERENCES

303

Feigenbaum, R. Yitzchak. Understanding the Talmud: A Systematic Guide to Talmudic

Structure and Methodology. 2nd rev. ed. Jerusalem: Darche Noam, 1988.
Foucault, Michel. The Order of Things: An Archeology of the Human Sciences. New
York: Vintage, 1973.392
Frank, Yitshak. The Practical Talmud Dictionary. Jerusalem: Ariel, 1992.
Glazerson, M. Hebrew: The Source of Languages. Trans. J. Weil. Jerusalem: Raz-Ot,
1987.
Guggenheimer, Heinrich. Logical Problems in Jewish Tradition. The Great Society:
Confrontations with Judaism. A Symposium. Ed. Philip Longworth. London: Blond,
1966.
Horowitz, Edward. How The Hebrew Language Grew. New York: Ktav, 1960.
Kahan, Rabbi Aharon Yisroel. Taryag Mitzvos. New York: Keser Torah, 1987.
Kelemen, Lawrence. Permission to Believe: Four Rational Approaches to Gods
Existence. Southfield, Mich.: Targum, 1990.
Lalande, Andr. Vocabulaire technique et critique de la philosophie. Paris: PU de France,
1972.
Lewittes, Mendell. Principles and Development of Jewish Law. USA: Bloch, 1987.
Lichtenstein, Aaron. The Seven Laws of Noah. New York: Berman, 1981.
Luzatto, R. Moshe Chaim. The Ways of Reason. Trans. Rabbis D. Sackton and Ch.
Tscholkowski. Jerusalem: Feldheim, 1989.393
Maccoby, Hyam. The Mythmaker: Paul and the Invention of Christianity.
Weidenfeld, 1986.

London:

Maimonides, Moses. Guide for the Perplexed. Trans. M. Friedlander. 2nd ed. New York:
Pardes, 1946.394

392

A translation of Les mots et les choses. Translator(s) unnamed.

Original Hebrew title, Derech Tevunot.
394
Maimonides is also known as the Rambam, an acrostic of his Hebrew name, R. Moshe ben
Maimon.
393

304

JUDAIC LOGIC

Malbim, R. Meir Leibush. Malbim on Mishley: the Commentary of Rabbi Meir Leibush
Malbim on the Book of Proverbs. Trans. R. Charles Wengrov and Avivah Gottlieb
Zornberg. Jerusalem: Feldheim, 1982.
McEvedy, Colin.
Penguin, 1967.

The Penguin Atlas of Ancient History.

Harmondsworth, Middx.:

Mitchell, T.C. The Bible in the British Museum: Interpreting the Evidence. London:
British Museum, 1988.
Mozeson, Isaac E. The Word: The Dictionary That Reveals the Hebrew Source of English.
New York: Shapolsky, 1989.
Munk, R. M. The Wisdom in the Hebrew Alphabet. New York: Mesorah, 1990.
Proceedings of the Associations of Orthodox Jewish Scientists.
Feldheim, 1970.

2 vol.

Jerusalem:

Quinton, Anthony. Francis Bacon. Past Masters. Gen. ed. Keith Thomas. Oxford:
Oxford UP, 1980.
Rabinowich, R. Nosson Dovid.
Ahavath Torah, 1988.

M. Mielziners Talmudic Terminology.

Jerusalem:

Roberts, J. M. The Pelican History of the World. Rev. ed. London: Penguin, 1980.
Scherman, R. Nosson, ed. The Complete ArtScroll Siddur. 2nd. ed. New York: Mesorah,
1986. 395
Scholem, Gershom. On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism. Trans. R. Manheim. New York:
Shocken, 1969.
Schroeder, Gerald L. Genesis and The Big Bang. New York: Bantam, 1990.
Shereshevsky, Esra. Rashi: The Man and His World. New York: Sepher-Hermon, 1982.
Sion, Avi. Future Logic: Categorical and Conditional Deduction and Induction of the
Natural, Temporal, Extensional and Logical Modalities. Rev. ed. Geneva: Sion, 1996.396

395

With commentaries by the editor.

Written in 1990, and at the time reproduced on 7 microfiches, and distributed to various
university libraries in various countries (among which Canada, England, Israel, Switzerland, and
the U.S.).
396

REFERENCES

305

Steinsaltz, R. Adin. The Talmud. The Steinsaltz Edition. A Reference Guide. Trans. and
ed. R. Israel V. Berman. New York: Random, 1989.
Taylor, Edwin F. and John Archibald Wheeler.
Freeman, 1963.

Spacetime Physics.

San Francisco:

The Babylonian Talmud. Index Volume. Ed. Rabbi Dr. I. Epstein. London: Soncino, 1952.
The Encyclopedia of Philosophy. New York: Macmillan, 1967.
The Jerusalem Bible: The Holy Scriptures. Jerusalem: Koren, 1992.
The Jewish Encyclopedia. New York: Funk, 1968.397
The Living Webster Encyclopedic Dictionary of the English Language. 1977 ed.
The Metsudah Tehillim. Trans. Rabbi Avrohom Davis. New York: Metsudah, 1983.
The New Encyclopaedia Britannica: Macropaedia. 1989 ed.
Windelband, Wilhelm. History of Ancient Philosophy. Trans. H. E. Cushman, from 2nd
German ed. New York: Dover, 1956.

397

Occasionally referred to as Jew. Enc. or J.E.

306

JUDAIC LOGIC

REFERENCES

All the works of Avi Sion may be freely consulted on the Internet, at

www.TheLogician.net

307

308

JUDAIC LOGIC

Works by Avi Sion include:

Future Logic: Categorical and Conditional Deduction and Induction of the Natural,
Temporal, Extensional and Logical Modalities. Revised ed. Geneva: Author, 1996.398
Judaic Logic: A Formal Analysis of Biblical, Talmudic and Rabbinic Logic. Geneva:
Author, 1995.399
Buddhist Illogic: A Critical Analysis of Nagarjunas Arguments. Geneva: Author, 2002.
Phenomenology: Basing Knowledge on Appearance. Expanded ed. Geneva: Author,
2005.400
The Logic of Causation. Rev. & exp. ed. Geneva: Author, 2010.401
Volition and Allied Causal Concepts. Geneva: Author, 2004.
Ruminations: Sundry Notes and Essays on Logic. Expanded ed. Geneva: Author, 2005.402
Meditations: A Spiritual Logbook. Geneva: Author, 2006.
Logical and Spiritual Reflections. Rev. & exp. ed. Geneva: Author, 2009.403
A Fortiori Logic: Innovations, History and Assessments. Geneva: Author, 2013.
All of these works may be consulted on the Internet, at:
www.TheLogician.net.
Print and E-book editions may be purchased online, notably at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/thelogicianbooks.

First published by author in Vancouver, B.C., 1990.

Published thereafter by Editions Slatkine in Geneva, 1997.
400
First published by author in Geneva, 2003.
401
First published by author in Geneva, 1999. The first edition comprised only Phase I
(Macroanalysis); the second edition (2003) added Phase II (Microanalysis); the third edition added
Phase III (Software Assisted Analysis).
402
First published by author in Geneva, earlier 2005.
403
First published by author in Geneva, 2008.
398
399

REFERENCES

309

Print and E-book editions of all books by Avi Sion can now be purchased in a secure
manner online at The Logician Bookshop:

http://stores.lulu.com/thelogicianbooks
The authors ten principal works:

A4, 466p

A4, 326p

A4, 386p

A5, 400p

A4, 402p

A5, 424p

A5, 216p

A5, 408p

A5, 218p

A4, 700p

Ten more books derived (by subdivision or compilation) from the above
ten:

A5, 188p

A5, 180p

A5, 212p

A5, 258p

A5, 242p

A5, 182p

A5, 142p

A5, 112p

A5, 458p

A5, 174p

310

JUDAIC LOGIC

ISBN 978-2-9700091-1-5